The Fate of Miss Sutherland
by Eclectic Butterfly
Summary: In A Case of Identity, Sherlock Holmes believed Miss Mary Sutherland would be unwilling to learn the truth about who her fiance is. In this sequel to the story, told from her point of view, Mary grows as a character, makes new friends, faces down her step-father, and learns the truth about the romance she'd sworn to keep.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: When I listened to this story as an audiobook earlier this year, it stayed with me. How dare Mr. Sherlock Holmes not give his client a word of warning about the situation she was in? I couldn't stop thinking about what *might* have happened next, and so I decided to give Mary Sutherland a happier ending.

Recognizable characters belong to their original creator, and I have just borrowed them for fun. Happy reading!

* * *

Though I had been longing to read it, the volume of Charles Dickens' _Great Expectation_ in my hand failed to hold my attention for more than a few moments. I frequently found myself staring out the window at the dark street. How long would it be before Mr. Holmes found my Hosmer Angel?

I'd heard Mr. Holmes could solve a mystery in minutes, though of course, I couldn't expect such immediate results this time. Still, it had been a day already and I was eager to hear what had become of my beloved Hosmer Angel. What had taken my husband-to-be away from me? When would he return?

"Mary Elizabeth Sutherland, must you keep sighing?" my mother said from across the room. "It really is grating on one's nerves."

"Sorry, Mother," I said, glancing over my shoulder. She had forbidden me to speak my love's name, so I quickly sought some reason to explain my mood. "Do you know when Father intends to return? Will we have to keep back supper for him?"

Mother glanced at the clock in some surprise, as though she hadn't noticed the hour. It was nearly seven o'clock, and usually, Father was home by six. "I'm sure he will be here soon enough," she said, her tone uncertain. "He mentioned he had an appointment to keep this evening."

With a nod, I returned my gaze back to the book. Though I had no idea what the words had contained, I turned the page. Though Mr. James Windibank was not my real father, I'd called him such at the behest of my mother. He was not many years older than me, but he made my mother happy so who was I to object? Stranger things had happened.

Earlier I'd had my work as a typist to distract me and keep me from thinking too much. Now, though, nothing seemed to be able to keep my thoughts from going around and around. Was my Hosmer unharmed? Was he thinking of me as I was of him?

Our romance had been a whirlwind and nothing I had expected to have in my life. Attending the gasfitters ball, despite my stepfather's disapproval, had been the best thing I'd ever done. Mr. Hosmer Angel's gentleness and quiet manners had appealed to me from the beginning, and it hadn't taken long for me to lose my heart to him.

"Mary!" Mother exclaimed. "You are sighing again. Do you have something on your mind that you wish to share?"

I wished I could tell her the truth; that I had spoken to Mr. Holmes and had entrusted the mystery to him. She had been so vehement about never hearing the name Hosmer Angel, though, I didn't dare. Instead, I simply said, "I'm hungry, Mother. It has been a long day."

Not for the first time did I wish for a friend, a confidante I could trust with my thoughts. My father, my real father, had always seemed to understand me, and of late, I had felt the lack of a listening ear.

My own isolated upbringing had kept me from making friends as I grew up. I had no friends my age, which was my own fault. Even though I learned to type, I'd never been a clever person and had often felt as though those more intelligent than I looked down on my meager talents.

"If your typing is so exhausting, perhaps you should consider giving it up," Mother said, her tone unsympathetic.

The idea of giving up my hobby made my heart skip a beat. I enjoyed the feeling of independence and knowing I could provide for myself if I needed to do so. But, I had my inheritance now, so perhaps my mother was right.

"You may be right," I said thoughtfully. "My inheritance can provide me anything I could possibly need."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mother stiffen. "What could you need?" she asked. "You have clothes enough and books to read. I hope you do not intend to spend the funds frivolously as some young ladies might."

"Of course not," I said, offended she would even think I would do such a thing.

"Dearest, your father and I know best what to do with the interest from your inheritance," Mother said, her tone becoming soothing. "Leave it to us, and we will take care of it all."

"And in the meantime, I will continue typing," I said decisively. "I like to be able to buy whatever bauble strikes my fancy."

Mother shook her head but didn't say anything. I turned another page of the book, knowing I would have to go back and reread to understand what was happening. My eyes feeling tired, I took a moment to remove my spectacles and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

It had been one of the first things Mr. Sherlock Holmes had noticed about me. How had he known? All he said was that it was his business to know things when I'd asked. After a day, I still wasn't sure how he'd known such detail about me. Was it the dent on my nose from the spectacles? Had I squinted?

Mr. Holmes' eye for detail was what had convinced me he was the only one capable of finding my fiance.

"I do believe that is James at last," Mother said, standing up. "Will you please make sure the table is set and let Mary know we will have our meal now."

Grateful to have something to do, I set aside my book and stood up. While Mother hurried to meet Father at the door, I went to the dining room. Our maid had already set the table, as I'd expected her to have done, so I made my way to the kitchen where our cook, Mrs. Winters was standing over the stove.

"Mr. Windibank has arrived," I announced, getting straight to the point. She'd been left worrying over whether the meal would be edible for long enough. "We will be ready to eat in a few minutes, I am sure."

Mrs. Winter muttered something under her breath, which I'm sure I was better off not hearing. I hurried back up to the dining room, expecting to find Mother and Father there, however, they were nowhere in sight. Puzzled, I went to the hallway.

James Windibanks' eyes landed on me and he broke off whatever he was saying to mother. "You," he said, his tone sharp. Fury shone in his eyes. "What do you think you were about, going to a common charlatan like Sherlock Holmes? To find some Hosmer Angel?"

My heart sank. My stepfather had been dismissive of Hosmer's disappearance, which is why I had taken matters into my own hands. Still, I never would have expected this anger from him. "I-I-," I stammered, trying to find the words to say.

"Oh, Mary," Mother said with a sigh. She shook her head. "You didn't. Have you no shame? Do you wish every and anyone to know you were jilted at the altar?"

Mother's disappointed tone snapped me from my confusion. "I have no reason to be ashamed," I said, straightening my shoulders. "I fell in love with a gentleman who had to go away last minute. I was not jilted. Of course, I went to the best person to solve the mystery. What is so wrong with that?"

"You will have nothing to do with that person," Father spat out, his tone livid. "It is a waste of money. He is a charlatan and you will gain nothing from it. I don't want to hear another word on the matter."

"But I didn't give Mr. Holmes any money," I said defensively. Was he upset about the chance of me wasting money or that I was having Mr. Holmes search for a man I fell in love with while he was away? "And even if I had, it is my money, my inheritance. I can do as I please with it!"

If anything, my stepfather's face flushed even redder. "You impertinent, headstrong girl! Why are you not content to wait and be patient?"

"I-I," I stammered, off-balanced by the verbal attack. "I am worried about Hosmer, of course! I wish to know where he has gone and what has happened to him! My vow to remain true didn't mean I would stand by and do nothing!"

James glanced at Mother, who shook her head again. "Really, Mary, it was a very unladylike decision," Mother said. Her tone was still disappointed. "I thought you would have learned better at school."  
"If he were going to return, your Hosmer Angel would have sent word," James said before I could respond to Mother's words. "What do you think that Sherlock Holmes would have done for you besides take your money?"

"He will find me the answers I need to know!" I fired back. "You don't understand, Father. You remember, Mrs. Etherege, whose husband everyone had given for dead. It was Mr. Sherlock Holmes who found him! I knew it would be an easy thing for Mr. Holmes to discover what trouble had taken Hosmer away."  
"Foolish child!" Mama exclaimed. "Mrs. Etherege, indeed! As if she is a woman who can be taken at her word! You know how she embellishes and exaggerates everything she says!"

James stepped closer. "You will have no more to do with him, do you understand me?"  
"But I must!" I protested. "I am confident Mr. Holmes is just the person who can find Hosmer!"  
"Let me be very clear with you. If I ever hear that you went back to that impertinent, stupid man, I will have you thrown in Bedlam." The man's tone became as hard as stone.

My heart skipped a beat. "Bedlam?" I repeated, unwilling to believe what I had just heard. Even just the mention of the word sent a chill down my spine. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would you send me to an insane asylum? I am perfectly sane."

"No sane person would go to a pretender and meddler like that Sherlock Holmes," Father said, sneering. "And for what reason? To find a person who doesn't exist? No daughter of mine will waste money in such a way."

Why was he being so cruel, so unreasonable? What had Mr. Holmes said to him to spark this temper? Shaking my head, I turned to mother. "Mother, tell him," I said, determined to have it out at once. After all, I intended to marry Hosmer Angel as soon as he returned, whatever my stepfather's feelings on the matter.

Mother sent a glance at her husband and hesitated. After a moment, she shook her head. "Calm down, my dear," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "I think we are all over-taxed by the day. Being angry will do no one any good. Surely, you know your father only wants what is best for you."

Dumbfounded, I stared at her. How could she say that after he just threatened to send me to an asylum? "Mother, tell him about Hosmer," I said, uncaring at the desperation in my voice. "You saw his devotion to me. You know nothing but the direst of situations would keep him from me."

She reached over and patted my arm. "Let's speak no more of the matter. I'm sure Mrs. Winter has our meal ready for us. You will feel more yourself once you have eaten. You both will feel better."

What was happening? Why would she not explain? She had met my Hosmer, had chaperoned us on several occasions. All she had to do was explain to her husband. As my mother, she ought to have been the first to defend me even against her own husband's accusations.

"I will have no more wild stories from you, Mary," James Windibank said, his tone harsh. "I knew you would be overset by going about in company, which is why I forbid it. Now that you have disobeyed me, I can see I was right."

His words made no sense. "I have not been overset," I said indignantly. "Indeed, meeting new people and conversing with them was the best thing I'd done since my father died."

Perhaps it was cruel for me to put it so bluntly. Mother gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "How can you say such a thing?" she asked. "Mary, I'd hoped you would get over this infatuation with a fictional person, but insulting your father to his face when he's taken such care of us?"

James shook his head. "Mary, I understand you are upset, but really, you must be rational." His tone had calmed, though anger still lurked in his brown eyes.  
"Rational?" I repeated. "I _am_ being rational. You are the one who is threatening to send me to an insane asylum."

I'd read about the female reporter, Nellie Bly, going undercover in an insane asylum and the horrors she had uncovered. Why would James Windibank threaten me with such a place? Bedlam was not Blackwell Island, true, but it was hardly a place a loving man would send a family member!

"When you act out of the ordinary and refuse to acknowledge it, there would be few men who would say you did not need help," James said firmly.

"Mary, you mustn't argue with your father," Mother said, her tone reproving. "Now, apologize for what you have done so that we can all put this behind us."

I wanted to argue further. I wanted to protest that I had done nothing wrong. I wanted to plead with my mother to explain to her husband...what? That she had met my dear Mr. Angel? That she had seen him? That she believed me?

But, instead, like an obedient daughter, I bowed my head and muttered, "My apologies for disturbing the family. It was not my intentions. I'm sorry."

"Promise you will never contact that charlatan Holmes again," James commanded, his expression implacable.

"Of course, I will not, since it distresses you so." The lie came easily to me. Somehow, I would work out a way to contact Mr. Holmes. He was no charlatan, of that I was certain.

James peered at me and shook his head. "I hope you mean that, Mary, for I would hate for you to learn the consequences of disobeying me."

A chill went down my spine, but I remained silent. "Well, now that we have that settled, let's go in to supper," Mother said, straightening her shoulders. She looped her arm around her husband's. Her tone was cheerful as though it hadn't just been threatened to have me put in an asylum. "Darling, you must tell me about your day."

Stepping aside, I allowed them to pass by me and then I followed them into the dining room. I was an independent young woman now, and if James Windibank thought he was going to control me, he was very much mistaken.


	2. Chapter 2

My mind preoccupied, I hardly heard a word of conversation during that meal. If I had been asked, I would not have been able to name a single dish I consumed. I declined to join them after supper was finished, wanting only my own company.

The fact that James Windibank sent a knowing look towards mother made me grit my teeth. Was he going to judge my every action from now on? The idea made me restless that night, and I didn't get any sleep.

Come morning, I'd decided to go about my day as if nothing had happened. I would, however, make my way to Baker Street, and beg Mr. Holmes to explain what had happened. Living my life under a threat was not acceptable.

I think I managed an air of normalcy when I joined Mother and James—after his absurd threat, I saw no reason to even think of him in a paternal role—for breakfast. My step-father was dressed for work, and he said nothing about the argument the previous evening. He did, however, eye me with a questioning expression.

"And what are your plans for today, Mary?" he asked.

"Oh, the usual. I am expected at the solicitor's office to type up some important documents," I said, picking up my cup of tea. "Perhaps this afternoon I will take a walk in one of the parks. If the weather is agreeable."

Was it my imagination, or did James flinch? "Mary, your mother and I worry your typing work is overworking you," he said. "Perhaps you should take a holiday from your hobby."

Raising an eyebrow, I sipped my tea before answering. "Mother said much the same thing yesterday," I said. "And if it really is such a concern to you both, I will accept your counsel on the matter. It would take only a moment for my solicitor to put my allowance for me so that I may purchase what I need."

Meaning, naturally, that Mother and James would no longer have access to my inheritance. It seemed that was all they wanted from me. Oh, why had Hosmer gone away without taking me with him?

"Mary, this independent, selfish attitude is very unlike you," James said, his brows drawing together with a frown. He turned to Mother. "My dear, perhaps we should have a doctor visit."

Not "we should have Dr. Thomas", the doctor who had tended us for years come to see me. _A _doctor. A doctor who would undoubtedly agree with what James thought.

Mother's eyes took on a worried expression and she shook her head. "Oh, dear, you may be right. But let's not jump to any hasty decisions."

If she had rediscovered some motherly concern, it was a feeble effort on her part. "I will gladly speak to Dr. Thomas, though having him come here would no doubt inconvenience him," I said brightly. "Perhaps instead of a walk in the park, I will stop at Dr. Thomas' office."

James' eyes narrowed. Did he think I just allow him to rule my life? Had he expected me to submit to his threats without fighting back? Did he think me completely stupid?

Well, I had some intelligence and more than a little self-preservation in my blood!

"No, no," he said. "As your mother said, none of us want to be hasty about anything." Despite his pleasant tone, he pointed a finger at me. "But do not forget what I said. Make no attempt to see that Holmes character."

"Have a good day, Mother," I said as I stood up. "I will see you this afternoon. Have a pleasant day at work, James."

It was the first time I had ever addressed him by his first name, and I felt rather bold. No more would I pretend this family was normal. No more would I pretend he was related to me in any way other than marriage.

The effect my words had was immediate. Mother gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. James' face paled, though, from the glint in his eyes, it was from anger and not shock.

"Mary, really" Mother started to say.

"I must be off," I said, raising my hand. I strode out of the room with all the confidence I possessed. After last night, I'd hoped rest would have calmed my stepfather's temper and bring a return of logic. I realized it had been a vain hope.

I pinned on my hat and buttoned up my coat. As I slipped on my gloves, I heard James leave the house. Or, at least, I assumed it was him from the way the front door slammed shut.

Breathing out, I made my way to the front of the house. Mother was there, wringing her hands. "My dear, I wish you wouldn't anger your father so much," she said. "He works so hard for us. The least we can do for him is to make sure home is calm and peaceful."

"I would be happy to oblige if he does not threaten me with doctors and asylums," I said bluntly. "I am as sane as anybody in this house."

"That is not so easily seen when all you do is talk of that Hosmer Angel. You seem to think you will see him again, and no one we know has ever seen this young man."

"You did," I said quietly, trying my best to hold back my temper.

"I will not corroborate or support your delusions, Mary," Mother said sharply. Her expression softened as she reached out to me. "Do you not see the danger you are in? You have overtaxed yourself and your poor mind is suffering."

"The only danger I am in is being extremely disappointed in my mother." I took a step back to avoid her touch. Why was Mother pretending she had never seen Mr. Angel when I could count half a dozen times when she had? Had James convinced her it would be better this way? If so, why?

Mother shook her head. "Please listen to reason, Mary."

"When what you say is reasonable, I will be happy to do so. Now I really must be on my way, Mother." I stepped around her and walked to the door.

"Well, you cannot say I didn't warn you," Mother said to my back.

Firmly, I closed the door. I took a moment to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I'd thought myself alone before I went to Mr. Holmes for assistance but now I felt it even more. What could I do though?

My mind went around and around on the problem as I set off along the sidewalk at a brisk pace. By the time I reached the solicitor's office, I hadn't come to any decision. As I sat at my typewriter, I hoped my work would provide some relief.

* * *

Mid-afternoon, I had completed typing up the documents Mr. Barrett required. I'd taken no time to even eat, so my stomach was protesting as I left the office. Overhead, the sun shone down weakly.

My first stop was at a tea shop for some refreshment. It was while I was sipping my tea and nibbling at the pastries that I gathered up my courage. What right did James Windibank have to tell me who I could or could not speak to? I'd asked Mr. Holmes to discover what had happened and I wanted to know what—if anything—he had learned.

A cab would have been faster, but I saw no need for urgency. The sooner I finished speaking to Mr. Holmes, the sooner I would have to return home. So, I walked from the tea shop in the direction of Baker Street.

It was while I was crossing the park that I happened to glance over my shoulder. Immediately, a man dodged to be out of sight. Unsettled, I continued on, making a left turn when I exited the park. I waited for several steps before I again looked back.

Again, a man dodged to hide behind a column. It was clear: he was following me.

I had no doubts my stepfather was responsible. James wanted to be certain I did not go to Baker Street. My steps slowed as I weighed my options. Part of me wanted to do as I had already decided, and hang the consequences James had threatened. The more reasonable part of me advised caution.

With a sigh, I changed my direction and set off for Dr. Thomas' office. Perhaps a few more days would make James drop his guard and I could slip away to Baker Street. I'd only seen a glimpse of my stepfather's temper, but I suspected his anger could be violent and I didn't feel brave enough to face it yet.

When I explained to Dr. Thomas that my mother worried I was overworking myself, he shook his head. "My dear Miss Sutherland," he said, "I suspect you could run circles around me with your energy and vitality. If you are feeling overworked, a day's rest will set you right."

Though I was pleased by his statement, I hesitated. "Then, you don't think I am in need of a stay at an...asylum?"

The doctor's brow furrowed. "That is an odd question."

"My stepfather suggested last night that I have been irrational and it would be for my own benefit to stay at such an institution," I explained. It was a gamble on my part to even mention my father's threat. He could deny it and then even dear Dr. Thomas would think I was paranoid. "You understand why I would be concerned."

"Mr. Windibank said that?" Dr. Thomas asked in surprise. "My, that sounds very unlike him. Were you suffering from a bad headache at the time? Feeling melancholy?"

"Not at all." My heart pounded in my ears as I waited for what he would say next. "I feel perfectly fine."

"Well, then, you must have misunderstood Mr. Windibank's words." Dr. Thomas sat back with a decisive nod. "From what I can see, you are of sound mind and body."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Doctor."  
"I'm sure when you speak to your father tonight, you will find you have worried over nothing."

While I was by no means certain of that, I smiled and thanked the doctor for his time. To protest that my stepfather had definitely meant his words would only make me seem fretful. I left his office and set off down the street. When I glanced over my shoulder, I found my shadow still behind me.

How much was James paying him to follow me?

For a moment, I was distracted, wondering how one pursued a career at following people. Perhaps a former member of the constabulary? A detective like Mr. Holmes? Or was there more sinister employment I wasn't aware of?

Going straight home was a distasteful idea, so I just walked. I paused in front of the shop fronts to admire the displays. If someone was determined to follow me, I would make sure he earned his fee.

By the time I arrived home, my own feet had started to ache. It would only be an hour before James returned from work himself. Would he get his report from his conspirator before he came for supper or later?

"Mary, is that you?" Mother called from the parlor when I entered.

"Yes, Mother. I'm home," I said, pausing as I removed my coat and hat. Perhaps the next day I would be able to make it to Baker Street.


	3. Chapter 3

James didn't speak to me that evening, only glared at me. It may have been an attempt to intimidate me and make me realize he was still angry with me. Despite the tension, it was a relief not to have to argue with him again.

Again, I spent the evening in my room. Feeling alone, I began letters to the young ladies who'd always spoken kindly to me at school. We may not have been close, but any connection to someone outside my family was better than none.

It felt strange to pen the letters instead of typing them. By the time I set the pen down, I'd completed two letters, one to the Honorable Miss Rouillard and the other to Miss Elizabeth Stratten. Whether they responded or not, it had felt good to write of trivial matters and hope that whatever happened, someone would remember me if something terrible happened.

My sleep was unsettled that night, and I rose tired in the morning. Breakfast was just as quiet, though Mother tried valiantly to keep up a conversation. I, myself, spoke little, since I had to chose each word with care. Who knew what would be used against me?

James left for his office as I prepared for my own day. This time, Mother didn't try to stop me when I left. Because I was expecting it, I immediately saw my shadow was in place as I walked down the street.

Once again, I would not be able to visit Baker Street. If Mr. Holmes discovered some information and sent me a message, would it get past Mother and James? I spent the rest of my journey to the solicitor's office trying to think of any way to get in contact with Mr. Holmes.

While I was in the middle of my work, a thought hit me: What if Mother and James were conspiring to keep Hosmer from me? What if he had tried to send me a message, but James had decided Hosmer wasn't worthy of me.

Part of me wanted to dismiss the thought. After all, James had laughed about my going to the gasfitters ball and even told me Hosmer would return after I'd been left at the church. Mother had approved of Hosmer as well. Surely if they had a reason to be so set against him, they would have told me.

Instead, they claimed Hosmer didn't exist and that I made him up. The abrupt change in attitude was confusing and if I were honest, frightening. There was a conspiracy weaving its way around me, and I felt incapable of understanding it.

My head ached by the time I completed my typing. Instead of walking, I decided to take a hansom cab around London and go nowhere near Baker Street. Perhaps the reports from my shadow would annoy James and he would find it a waste of time.

I was a patient woman, and I was reasonably certain I could outwait my stepfather to get what I wanted.

What I didn't take into account was that James would get tired of waiting and take action himself.

Three days after the confrontation with James, I returned home from a rather long day of typing. Quick footsteps were my only warning before James appeared in the hallway. "And just where have you been?" he demanded as he strode up to me. "Your mother expected you home hours ago!"

"I don't know why," I said, taking a step back to get away from him. "I said at breakfast I would take a walk after I completed my work. I saw some lovely things in the shop windows. I'm tempted to purchase some of them tomorrow."

James' hand shot out and he caught my wrist. "We have company," he said, his voice firm. "You have kept them waiting."

He tried to pull me with him, but I dug in my heels. "Please let go of me," I said, forcing myself to be as calm as possible. "I am not a child who needs to be lead about."

After a moment, he let go, but annoyance was on his face. James gestured to the parlor, indicating I should go in front of him. Head held high, I walked into the room where my mother stood with two strange men.

A chill went down my spine. "Good evening, gentlemen," I said, nodding my head. I had a good idea of what this visit was for. "Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I was unaware we were expecting guests. Do you work with James?"

"No, we are not colleagues of your father," the taller of the two said. Behind a pair of spectacles, his brown eyes were sharp and intelligent. "I am Dr. Brown and this is Dr. Spencer. You must be Miss Mary Sutherland."

Mother's hands were clenched tightly together, and her face was pale when I glanced over. "Oh, then you must be acquaintances of our dear family doctor, Dr. Thomas," I said with a smile. "I just stopped to see him a few days ago."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James give a start as though he were surprised. "Did you now," Dr. Spencer said, his tone gentle. "And why was that? Have you been feeling unwell?"

"Oh, I've been perfectly well. However, Mother expressed concern I had overexerted myself, so I thought it best to see Dr. Thomas about the matter." I gestured to the chairs. "Shall we sit down? Or will we stand about until the meal is served? Have you been offered some refreshment? A drink, perhaps?"

My voice sounded strained even to me. "Are you upset about something, Miss Sutherland?" Dr. Brown asked, his eyes narrowing.

"A bit," I said readily. "After all, if I had known company was going to be here, I would have made sure to cut short my walk. Do you enjoy walks, Dr. Brown? I find them so refreshing. In any case, I'm very much afraid you think me rude for having kept you waiting."

"You say you visited Dr. Thomas," Dr. Spencer said, stepping forward. "What did he have to say about your health?"

"That I am as sound of mind and body as anyone. I'm sure he will be glad to tell you the details himself, if you wish," I said succinctly. "But surely you didn't come tonight to talk about me."

"Mary, you're becoming agitated," Mother said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Give the gentlemen a chance to talk."

Dr. Brown held up his hand. "No, no," he said. "Let the girl talk. I'm sure what she has to say will give us a clear look into her mind."

I couldn't help a glance at James as I sat down in a chair by the fireplace. Beyond his start of surprise at hearing of my visit to the doctor, he managed to maintain an expression of concern. It would seem he was certain of this meeting's outcome.

"You were saying, Miss Sutherland?" Dr. Brown said as he sat across from me.

"Hmm? Oh, I thought I had answered Dr. Spencer's question adequately already," I said, folding my hands in my lap. "What more would you like me to say?"

It may have been my imagination but I thought I saw the doctor clench his jaw. "Wilful, is she not?" James said, shaking his head. "You can see the difficulty I face."

"Did I not answer clearly? Perhaps we should summon Dr. Thomas and he can explain it in terms you could understand," I suggested, widening my eyes. "I'm sure he would come as soon as a message was taken to him. He's taken such good care of me over the years."

"Miss Sutherland—may I call you Mary?—your father tells us you have been suffering from delusions," Dr. Brown said, ignoring me. "You believe yourself to be engaged to a man who doesn't exist?"

Now I had to tread carefully. A glance was all it took to tell me that Mother would not be speaking on my behalf. While I was as devoted to my Hosmer as ever, until I could prove his existence, I would have to protect myself. I could only pray I had the wits to do so. "Why that is ridiculous!" I exclaimed. "What a story! How can I be engaged to a man if he doesn't exist?"

Dr. Brown leaned forward. "Then you deny the charge?"

"Honestly, Mary, " James said, straightening up. "Have you not just spent nearly a week sighing over your Hosmer Angel? Did you not go to St. Savior's Church with the intention of marrying this man?"

He said the name as though it were something dirty. I tamped down the urge to take offense. "Have I?" I asked cautiously. He made it sound as though I were irrational and delusional. Why hadn't I thought to go to my solicitor and discover a way to protect my inheritance?

"Are you not clear on your own memories?" Dr. Spencer asked, his tone still kind. "You do not remember what your father has said?"

It seemed no matter what I said, it would be twisted against me. "Mr. Windibank is my stepfather, not the gentleman who raised me," I said, unable to allow the point to go uncorrected any longer. "You have noted our differing family names, have you not?"

"Mary, that is not important at the moment," the kind doctor said, shaking his head.

"Now you see what my wife and I face!" James said, gesturing at me. "I have been as a father to her and she denies it!"

"Mr. Windibank, please," I said in a reproving tone. I shook my head at him. "Such dramatic tones! What will our guests think of your hysteric words?"

"We're here to look after you, Miss Sutherland, not Mr. Windibank," Dr. Spencer said, reclaiming my attention. "He is the one who asked us here, out of concern for your state of mind. He says you have turned to charlatans despite his plea for you not to do so."

"Is that what he has said?" I wanted to glare at my stepfather, but I managed to keep my face passive. "Gentleman, will this be much longer? I am hungry, and would very much like my evening meal."

The two doctors exchanged glances. "Your lack of concern is odd," Dr. Brown said. "When you come with us, we will see you fed and then you will get the rest you need."

And with me sequestered away, James Windibank and Mother would live off my money. Somehow, I would have to show that I had more worth with them. "Excellent," I said, standing up. "I've been wanting more time to write to my friends. The Honorable Miss Rouillard has been expecting me to answer her letter."

I'd gone to school with Miss Rouillard, the daughter of a wealthy country baron. We hadn't been close, but the name had come to me in a flash. It was a connection anyone trying to climb their way up in society would wish to keep.

"Another delusion?" James asked, scoffing. "Mary, really!"

Mother, though, gasped. "Mary, you never said you had been writing to Miss Rouillard!"

"Does this person exist?" Dr. Brown asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mary went to school with her." Mother stood up and hurried to her husband's side. "James, a moment of your time, please."

They stepped out of the room, leaving me alone with the doctors. "Tell me," I said as I looked from one man to the other. "How much was my stepfather intending on paying you to take me away?"

"My dear Mary, you should not be so paranoid," Dr. Brown said, his tone condescending. "What are payments and money when your health is concerned? You ought to leave such concerns to your father."

"Stepfather," I corrected again. "And, as he no doubts planned on using my inheritance to pay for my keep, I do think it something I should know about."

Again, the doctors glanced at each other. Anything they would have said was lost as James entered. "I think we've made out paint," he said without preamble. "I'm certain Mary's behavior will improve now."

"If you're sure, Mr. Windibank" Dr. Brown said, his brow furrowing in a frown. "I'm afraid your daughter shows clear signs of paranoia and delusions."

"I understand completely," James said, nodding earnestly. "And if she worsens, you can be sure we will turn her over to your care. For now, her mother and I agree it may be better for her to remain here where we can care for her."

Any triumph I felt vanished at the glare he directed at me. He intended to hold this over my head to make sure I behaved as he wished me to behave. The only thing I could be relieved about was that I was not about to be dragged from my home to be confined in an asylum.

The two doctors rose and shook hands with James. I didn't bid either of them farewell, but no one seemed to mind. Mother came into the room as James escorted the doctors out of the house.

"Oh, Mary," she said, her tone disappointed. She sighed as she sat down. "You do make things difficult, don't you?"

Why was she trying to make this my fault? "At what point did you decide Hosmer Angel was not good enough for me?" I asked as I clenched my hands together. "Before he left or after?"

Mother's eyes shifted to the left. "Honestly, Mary, must you continue with that story?"

I leaned forward. "Why do you keep lying? I remember clearly you approved of Hosmer when he visited. You assured me it was quite right for me to promise Hosmer I would always be true to him. You said I should never mind about what James would think of my engagement. You rode with me to the church! Why do you now say you know nothing of him?"

"Well, of course, I must placate you," Mother said uncertainly. "What else was I to do? Am I to know what to do with a girl who tells tall tales? I wanted to wait until I had your father's advice."

"My father is dead," I said sharper than I had intended. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying not to notice Mother's hurt expression. "It doesn't bother you at all that your husband wished to send me away with those two doctors just now?"

"James wants what is best for you, just as I do." Mother reached out to put her hand on my shoulder. "Mary, can you honestly say that the last few weeks haven't been terrible for you? You're so sheltered, you don't know that the world can take advantage of a girl like you."

Being repeatedly called a girl grated on my nerves, but what she said didn't ring true. "How can the world have taken advantage of me if I made Hosmer Angel up?" I asked. "You can't have it both ways, Mother."

A flush spread across her cheeks. "Mary, kindly stop twisting my words."

I was getting nowhere with them. "I think I will have a tray in my room tonight," I said as I stood up. For a moment, I looked down at her and shook my head. There seemed nothing left to say, since she would not admit to her lies. With a sigh, I started for the doorway.

"Going somewhere, Mary?" James asked as stepped into view. "Supper will be ready momentarily."

Not, I suspected, if the servants had been listening at the doors as I know the maids were wont to do. "I am in no mood for company," I said honestly. "I will have a tray in my room."

"Are you so eager to be confined to your room then?" he asked. "Your mother and I will be happy to oblige you."

Warily, I eyed him, not sure what to say. Did he think locking me in my room would benefit him in some way? "I'm sure you would prefer to discuss the day with mother without me," I finally said.

"We eat together as a family," James said, his tone firm. "As long as you live under my roof, you will continue to eat with your mother and I." His lips curved in a smile. "After all, I want to hear about these friends you seem to have."

"What possible interest could you have in my school friends?"

"What father isn't interested in his daughter's friends?"

A chill went down my spine. When I'd first met him, before the marriage, I had thought it odd how close he was to my age. After he married Mother and they both asked me to call him 'Father', I'd thought it strange but did as they asked. His insistence on calling me daughter was just unsettling.

"What father calls strange doctors to take a family member to an asylum?"

"Mary!" Mother exclaimed.

Before I had met Hosmer, I doubt I would have taken such a strong stand. At that time, Mother and James were all I had. Now, though, I had to keep myself safe so that I could reunite with my betrothed. And James was a definite threat to my safety and freedom.

"Any father would do as I have done out of concern for their daughter's mental health," James said, still blocking my way. He even reached out his hand to place it on my shoulder. "You have not been acting yourself these past few weeks."

"I rather feel I've been more myself lately than I have been since my father died," I said boldly.

James' eyes narrowed. "I understand you are upset, but you need to reconsider what you say to me, Mary," he said. "I am the head of this house and I will not allow you to disrespect me or go against what I say."

I bit my tongue to keep silent. Arguing would only make things worse, especially since my every word was twisted against me. I wasn't going to back down, though. James raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting me to apologize.

"Well, then," I said. "May I go up and dress for dinner? Mother doesn't like me to come to dinner with ink splotches on my hands."

There weren't actually any ink spots on my hands, since I hadn't needed to make any notes while I worked. But it was the only excuse I could think of to get to my room. A moment to breathe and calm down was all I wanted after the tense half an hour.

For a moment, I thought James would refuse and insist on having everything his way. Then, he gave a nod and stepped to the side. "I mean what I said, Mary," he said in a low voice. "Do not try to thwart me or there will be consequences."

Going past him, I said nothing. With any luck, Hosmer would return and take me away from this miserable household.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing I did after breakfast the next day was leave early to visit my solicitor. Mr. Douglas raised an eyebrow when he heard my request. "Would you rather I not allow Mr. Windibank access to the funds?" he asked, his tone gentle. "It is generous of you to allow him to have use of the interest at all."

"No," I said quickly. While I wanted to protect myself as best I could, I wasn't completely stupid. I was only safe while I was useful to my stepfather. "I still want to assist my mother with expenses, however, I also want to make sure I am not taken advantage of."

With a nod, Mr. Douglas made a note. "Do you wish your stepfather to make alterations to your investments?"

"No, of course not." The last thing I wanted was James to have any more control over my money. "Has he tried?"

Mr. Douglas looked down at the papers on his desk. "He's made suggestions, but I tend to be more cautious about such matters. I understand he only wishes what is best for you, Miss Sutherland."

I didn't argue the point. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Douglas. I appreciate it very much."

"Has something happened to concern you?" Mr. Douglas asked, lifting his gaze. His forehead was wrinkled with a frown. "These stipulations you've laid out are...odd, I must say. Should you marry, your husband would take control of your assets and your parents would no longer be able to do so."

Of course he would assume that would be the only reason I would no longer be under my mother's roof. Dare I tell him about Mr. Sutherland's threat? No, not when any decision I made could be contested as being invalid because I may be 'insane'.

"I just want to be certain there are no loopholes or any possible way I might be at a disadvantage. My uncle would expect me to do so, I'm sure."

The solicitor started to say something and then paused. "Of course. I'll make certain your wishes are honored. Will there be anything else, Miss Sutherland? Any other concerns?"

There was not. I thanked him and took my leave. A cold wind made me shiver when I left the office. I went about the rest of my day, pleased I had accomplished at least one thing to protect myself. Now, I just needed to make contact with Mr. Holmes.

Since I'd seen my shadow when I left home, I knew he would be there when I was done with my typing. Therefore, I took a break from typing to write a note with the intention of sending it as a telegraph when I completed my sheets of the day.

What I hadn't planned on was James Windibank to be waiting for me as soon as I stepped out of the office. "Ah, there you are, Mary," he said, his hand curling around my wrist. "I've come to walk home with you. It's not always safe for a young lady on her own, you know."

"No, I didn't know," I said primly. I'd walked to and fro on my own for some time now, and have been perfectly fine. Granted the previous year, with the terrible killings by Jack the Ripper, I had been hesitant to walk alone. Much of the typing I'd done was at home during that time. When there had been no new murder and the furor had calmed, I'd returned to my old routine.

"Oblige me," James said, tightening his grip on my wrist. With a pained cry, I let go of the message I'd written. In a flash, James bent down and picked it up. "And what's this?"

"Personal," I said as I tried to snatch it back.

He stepped out of my grasp and unfolded the paper. His lips pressed into a thin line as he read my brief plea. "Did I not say you were not to have anything to do with that charlatan?" he demanded, lifting his gaze to me.

"Perhaps, but I never agreed to do so." Perhaps my fierceness was the wrong tact for me to take. Oh, why had he come? His office was not near where I worked, so he must have had a reason to come.

Did he know I had been to my solicitor? If I had to choose between him preventing me from contacting Mr. Holmes and knowing about the changes to my money, it was better to lose the message. I couldn't imagine James' wrath if he discovered the stipulations I'd put in place.

James tore the note into tiny pieces and let the wind carry them away. "Come along, Mary," he said. "I think a visit to Dr. Brown is in order."

"No!" I said, trying to dig my heels in. "No, please! James!"

"I have tried to be reasonable with you," James said as he pulled me along. "But at every turn, you are determined to be a stubborn, willful girl. You cause your mother and I nothing but trouble!"

Anyone who was close enough to help me only looked away and went about their business. "I'm sorry!" I blurted out, desperate to soothe him. "I-I was foolish. I can see that now. I shouldn't have...I mean, it was wrong of me to write the message."

"I can never trust you again. The next time my back is turned, you'll go running off to see that consulting detective and wasting your money."

"No! I swear I won't go to Baker Street and I won't send Mr. Holmes a message." I held my breath, hoping it was enough to assuage my stepfather's anger. My last hope would be Mr. Holmes would bring his findings to me.

James' steps began to slow and when he stopped, he faced me. "Do you think I will believe you now?"

"I know your threats are not idle," I said, being completely honest. At least, about this. "I know what happens in those restful asylums. I promise I will behave. You have my word."

He raised an eyebrow, staring intently at my face. After a long moment, he nodded. "Then, I am satisfied you have finally learned your lesson," he said. Still, his grip did not loosen. "Now, we shall make our way home."

I kept up with his quick strides then. Part of me wanted to ask what had brought him to me, but I didn't want to risk him asking about my visit to Mr. Douglas. It would remain my one secret.

* * *

Weeks passed, and though the tension at home eased, nothing was ever the same. I did my best to be polite to James whenever I was in his presence. Mostly, I filled my time with my work and letters to my school friends, who had, in fact, responded to me. Every day, I hoped for some hint that Hosmer had returned, but nothing happened.

There was no note or message from Mr. Holmes. At first, I wondered if he'd been obliged to take on a more serious case. As the days passed, I was forced to conclude that he must have forgotten about me entirely. Surely, even if Mr. Holmes had found nothing, he would have contacted me to say so, wouldn't he?

I didn't even have the letters from Hosmer to comfort me. On my lowest days, I even began to doubt whether my romance had even happened. Once I had slept, though, I would chide myself for being weak and forgetting my promise to Hosmer.

No matter what, I would keep my word and be faithful.

After a few months of exchanging letters, my school acquaintance, Miss Rouillard, invited me to visit her. While she hadn't improved in the years since we had been in school, it was a relief to have someone to visit. Perhaps if I'd had anyone else to visit, I would have not been as willing to spend several hours at her house each week.

It was on one such visit I met a friend of Miss Rouillard, Miss Evangeline Carter, who was an outspoken but cheerful sort of girl. She was tall, slender, and so very fashionable. I wasn't sure what her family background was, but if Miss Rouillard accepted her, I could have not objections.

"It is refreshing to find someone else my age who hasn't jumped into marriage," Miss Carter said as she accepted a teacup from our hostess. "What is your excuse, Miss Sutherland, when so many other girls our age have settled down?"

While I longed to have someone to confide in, I didn't dare mention Hosmer. "My mother and stepfather do not like me to go out," I said honestly, though I did have a hundred pounds a year. "I have my typing to keep me busy, though."

"Oh, a career girl, are you?" Miss Carter asked, her blue eyes lighting up with interest. "Liz said you were an heiress."

Across the room, Miss Rouillard flinched at hearing herself so casually referenced. "I am, though I wouldn't say I'm wealthy exactly," I explained. "The interest of my inheritance is drawn by my stepfather to help the household. Anything I need is satisfied by my typing. I couldn't stand to be idle."

"Neither could I!" Miss Carter said emphatically. "But your situation is exactly why I have refused to meet any of the young gentlemen my parents try to throw my way. Why should I give up all my rights to a man?"

"Evangeline," Miss Rouillard said with a sigh. "You promised not to bring that up while you visited."

"Did I?" Miss Carter gave a light laugh. "I suppose I did, but I don't think Miss Sutherland is upset by me speaking my mind."

"Of course not," I hastened to say, puzzled by this forthright girl.

Miss Rouillard shook her head. "You are everything that is polite, Miss Sutherland, but you do not know the extent of Evangeline's...passion. Given the chance, she will speak for hours about the need for women's rights and votes."

I'd heard of the suffragette movement, though I hadn't taken the time to learn more than just passing details. From what I knew, there were some girls who took the matter very, very seriously.

"If a girl is interested in something, why shouldn't she have the evidence and passion to speak about it for hours?" Miss Carter asked cheerfully. "After all, a thing worth believing in is worth defending."

"I don't know why I tolerate you," Miss Rouillard said with another sigh. The fondness in her voice took away any sting her words might have contained. "Now, I would like to get to the point of my asking you here. I'm hoping you both will assist me in a little project."

"Oh, not another charity auction!" Miss Carter exclaimed with a dramatic expression on her face.

"Really, Evangeline, there can be no better use of our time and effort."

"I'd argue equal rights for women is just as important as education for orphans."

Befuddled, I glanced between them. "Well, we all must have our little projects," Miss Rouillard said primly. "I was hoping I would have your assistance at the auction and in organizing items to be auctioned off, Evangeline. You are so good with people."

As she sipped her tea, Miss Carter waved her free hand. Taking it as acceptance, Miss Rouillard turned her attention to me. "And I am hoping you will attend the auction and participate, Miss Sutherland," she said sweetly.

My immediate acceptance hung on my tongue. Here I would finally have the friendship of ladies my own age. Through them, I would be able to be away from my mother's house more, and thus away from James' control.

But I couldn't bring myself to say yes. "I would be happy to help in any way I can. What do you require? I can assist Miss Carter in organizing items to be sold."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure Evangeline will have that in order," Miss Rouillard said after a pause. "I was hoping to have your support during the auction. Some ladies are hesitant to bid on items they feel they can sew themselves. If they see you bid without such hesitation, I'm sure they will be more likely to participate."

She was only asking because she knew about my inheritance. Why else was I being asked to participate monetarily, but not with anything behind the scenes as Miss Carter had? There was an eagerness in Miss Rouillard's eyes that kept me on guard.

"On what date? You know my stepfather does not like to have me go about," I said slowly. "I would have to get his permission before I give my promise to anything."

"Oh, in two weeks. On Friday. I'm sure your stepfather wouldn't object to you helping a charity." Miss Rouillard's tone had become wheedling. "Say you'll help, Miss Sutherland. I'm sure you know the hardships faced by poor orphans."

"Yes, of course, I know." It had been all she talked of the last time I'd had tea with her. "Thank you for the invitation. I'll let you know if I am able to attend."

For a brief moment, my old school friend's lips turned down. "I see. I look forward to hearing from you that you'll be there. It is such an important cause, Miss Sutherland."

"How is Katherine, Liz?" Miss Carter asked, changing the subject. "I haven't seen her in months. Is she still set on writing a moving novel?"

"Unfortunately," Miss Rouillard said with a sigh. "She thinks she will be the next Jane Austen, and she is determined to remain locked in her room until she has completed her first manuscript. She will not listen to sense or reason. All because her heart was broken by that captain."

I breathed a sigh of relief to have attention taken off of me. It was a lowering realization that Miss Rouillard had only been associating with me because she hoped to benefit from my inheritance. Of course, I had used her name as a way to keep myself safe, so I suppose I was no better.

A half hour later, Miss Carter and I left together. "Which way are you going?" she asked when we were on the pavement. "Do you have a carriage or are you walking?"

Surprised by the question, I gestured to my right. "I planned on walking."

"Excellent. I will walk with you," she said brightly. "I hope Liz's enthusiasm didn't put you off this afternoon. She tends to overly enthusiastic when it comes to the charities she supports."

"Oh, no," I hastily assured her. "I mean, I was surprised. I'd hoped I could assist in other, more practical ways, but I understand she has things organized already. An extra pair of hands can be a hindrance in such cases."

"You're a good sort, Miss Sutherland," she said, looping her arm around mine. "How can it be we have never met before this?"

"Miss Rouillard and I lost contact with each other when we left school," I explained. "We've only recently reconnected through letters. I honestly expected her to have married by now."

"Yes, well, that's rather difficult when no one is good enough for the family," Miss Carter said, dropping my arm. "Miss Sutherland, I hate to sound paranoid but have you noticed the rather unscrupulous person who has followed us this entire block?"

Swiftly, I glanced over my shoulder. Sure enough, the man who had been my shadow every time I went out was there. "My apologies. He is not following us," I said with a sigh. "He is following me. My stepfather wishes to know my every move."

"Is the man your bodyguard then?" Miss Carter asked, raising an eyebrow. "Have you been threatened in some way?"

"No. Well, not precisely." My freedom had been threatened by my stepfather but it was hardly something I could come and say. What would she say if she knew I was watched so that if I did anything out of line, I would be sent to an asylum?

Miss Carter glanced at me and then shook her head. "I don't think I could stand to always be followed about."

"I would rather not, but my stepfather is insistent. He does not trust me."

"Oh? Have you done something to make your stepfather feel he cannot trust you?"

"In reality, no, but he seems to think I have," I said honestly. "So I endure having a shadow. Sometimes I pretend I am someone important, and it makes it a bit more bearable." I flushed as soon as I said the words. "That probably sounds childish."

"What is the purpose of an imagination if we do not use it now and again?" Miss Carter said with a laugh. She came to a stop at the corner. "Well, I'll have to leave you here. I hope we can talk again. I want to know all about what it's like to be a typing girl."

Few had ever taken an interest in my skill. "I'd be happy to tell you," I said, blushing with happiness. "There's not much to it, I'm afraid, so it would be a short conversation."

"Then, we will find other things to talk of as well!" Miss Carter set off down the cross street, waving her hand in farewell.

Pleased to have made what I hoped would be a friend, I leisurely made my way home.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mary, I stopped by your solicitor's office this afternoon," James said at dinner a week after I first met Miss Carter. "I've found several interesting ventures that I know would be worthwhile for your inheritance."

"Oh?" I reached for my wine glass.

"Mr. Douglas seemed reluctant to listen to me. More so than in the past. In fact, he refused to even look at the information I had. Why is that, do you think?"

I sipped my wine without really tasting it. "You know he tends to be cautious when it comes to which investments he will take a risk on," I said evenly. I set my glass down, trying to appear unconcerned. "He's satisfied with what my funds are invested in."

"I have evidence to prove these ventures are worth looking in to," James said, his tone sharp. "I think it might be time to find someone who can manage your funds better than Douglas. I've kept this opinion to myself for some time now, but I refuse to let you be taken advantage of for a moment longer."

"He managed my uncle's interests exceptionally well, and I have not been disappointed in him." My appetite had fled, so I merely poked at the boiled potatoes on my plate. "I'm content to let things remain as they are."

The entire table shook as James slammed his fist down on the top. "Look at me!"

At his outburst of anger, I couldn't do anything but look at him. Across from me, Mother heaved a sigh. "Mary, honestly. Must you be so disrespectful?" she asked. "Here your father has gone to a great deal of trouble to find avenues for you to improve your inheritance and you are disregarding them without a single thought."

"It was not my intention to be disrespectful, and I apologize if it sounded as though I was. I merely disagree with his opinion," I said with as much calm as I could muster. "I see no reason to make any changes. My uncle was careful when he arranged the matter, you see, and I do not want to do anything that he would disapprove of."

"Tomorrow, we are going to go to your solicitor and make some changes," James said, getting my attention. He picked up his own wine glass and raised it to his lips.

The last thing I wanted was another confrontation with him but there was no chance I was going to remove Mr. Douglas from handling my money. I had so few people I could rely on that I had to keep the ones who I knew had my best interests in mind. "No. I have a full day of typing tomorrow, James, and I will not shirk my responsibilities."

James went completely still. "What did you say?" he asked, his tone a deadly calm.

"I said no, I will not be seeing my solicitor tomorrow," I said matter-of-factly. "Mr. Douglas has been all that is kindness, and I trust him. I see no reason why I should seek someone else, who may not understand my position or desires so well."

"Mary Elizabeth Sutherland!" Mother had used my full name more in the last year than in my entire life. "I don't understand you! Why are you behaving in this independent, terrible way? Did you not listen to your father's reasons?"

"You will do as I say, Mary," James said, his voice lowering. It was more frightening than when he yelled. "Or have you forgotten what happens when a young lady does not behave as she should?"

His threat should have frightened me as it had before. At that moment, though, I was too tired to give it any notice. After all, if I were removed from the house, the allowance from my inheritance would stop. James wouldn't allow that, and I was certain it would not be so easy for him to pursue a legal avenue to seize my money.

"I'm sure you will do what you feel you must," I said. "Miss Rouillard, however, will wonder if I do not attend her charity auction next week."

That made James pause and he glanced at my mother as if to confirm what I said was the truth. "I thought I made it clear your mother and I would have to approve of any plans you made," he finally said, his tone losing a bit of his anger.

"And I thought you wished me to cultivate my friendship with the daughter of a baron. Did I misunderstand the reason for keeping me at home instead of sending me away with those two doctors?"

James' face flushed red. He pointed a finger at me. "You are on thin ice, young lady."

It was clear he didn't like when he wasn't in control. "Do you have any objections to me attending my friend's event?" I asked smiling as though nothing were out of the ordinary. "She wants to know whether I will be there or not, and she may find it odd if I do not respond."

"Yes," he said, even as my mother said, "No." They looked at each other with no little surprise.

"Well. Perhaps you would like to discuss it. If you could let me know before next week, I would appreciate it," I said, pleased to see a small sign of dissension between them. "Miss Rouillard has asked for my help, and I would hate to disappoint her." Nevermind that the help had been requested from my purse.

James narrowed his eyes and he pointed a finger at me. "You are trying to distract me from the fact that you refuse to oblige me," he said. "I have a plan to double your wealth. There. Does that have your attention?"

"As you know very well, my inheritance is tied up in the funds," I responded, holding back a sigh. "Even if I wanted to, which I do not, I couldn't just give it to you, James. My uncle's estate would not allow it. My uncle arranged matters to protect me, you know. Nothing can be done."

"Certainly something can be done. I've been consulting my own solicitor on the matter. There are avenues we can pursue."

Of course he had. James was always thorough when it came to money and when he wanted to get his own way in things. "I'm sure there are, if I were unhappy with Mr. Douglas' work on my behalf. As it is, I would prefer to let things remain as they are," I said with a shrug.

"Mary, honestly!" Mother exclaimed. "You are an impossible girl sometimes. If this is the results of allowing you your head in pursuing friendship with your schoolmates, I think we have had quite enough of that."

She seemed to be under the impression that if she continually expressed her disappointment in me I would suddenly behave as she expected. Though I felt hurt—how could I not?—, I was also too tired to consider her words seriously. How could I when she had sided with her husband against me in everything?

"Isn't it enough that I give you my allowance every quarter?" I asked, pushing away my plate. I was certain I couldn't eat another bite. Honestly, what more did my stepfather want from me? "Now you want it all?"

James straightened with offense. "I'm sorry it is such an inconvenience to you to help your mother and me with the expense of living here," he said, his tone fairly dripping with sarcasm. "Where would you be if you were not with us?"

He knew Mother had no siblings and her parents were dead. There was no more family from my real father's side of the family. Perhaps there were distant cousins I didn't know about, but I couldn't be sure. I had nowhere but my mother's house.

Marriage was the only acceptable reason to leave my parent's house. Though, I supposed, I could find lodging like the girls who came to London for work must. In fact, the thought had merit.

"Tomorrow we are going to Douglas, and we are going to make some changes."

"I'm afraid I cannot." How long would I have to refuse? Did I have the patience to keep objecting in the face of him ignoring me?

"And why not?"

"Because I simply do not wish to make any change. What more do you wish me to say?"

"Mary—" James began to say, his face a deep, angry red.

I shoved back my chair and stood up. "I have made my decision, James, and that is all that needs to be said. I apologize if you disapprove, but I am not going to change my mind. I've lost my appetite. Good night."

Before either of them could say a word, I walked out. I didn't know what consequences my actions would bring me, but I had no doubt James would find some way to retaliate. Part of me wanted to hang back and eavesdrop, but I worried they would have heard my footsteps pause.

"Oh, Miss," Sally exclaimed as she encountered me in the hallway. In her hands was the pudding intended for dessert. Her eyes shifted so that she was not looking at me. "Are you...is something...Are you looking for something?"

Ever since James had brought the two doctors into the house, none of the household staff had looked me in the eye. They kept their tone gentle and were quick to leave my presence. I would guess they were afraid of me.

"No, Sally," I said with a sigh. "Please don't let me keep you from your work."

Her cheeks flushed as she ducked her head. She hurried past me to the dining room. The girl was as caught as I was, although she had the opportunity to search for a position elsewhere. I had nowhere else to go.

* * *

When I woke the following morning, I expected to find the two doctors waiting to take me to an asylum. Instead, Mother informed me that I would be allowed to attend the charity auction. Her tone conveyed her disapproval, but of course, she wouldn't go against anything her husband decided.

Any victory I might have felt over winning this one fight vanished when Mother added, "Your father and I will accompany you to the feel it necessary to keep you under supervision."

Part of me wanted to protest. What right did they have to watch my every move? I hadn't tried to contact Mr. Holmes, though I longed to know if he had made any progress in locating Hosmer. I had complied with everything else they ordered, save for the matter of my inheritance.

Still, I was willing to accept their presence. I wanted to become better acquainted with Miss Carter. I could only do that if we met at our mutual friend's event. "Certainly," I said with a smile. "I look forward to introducing you to Miss Rouillard and Miss Carter."

"Miss Carter?" Mother repeated, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. "And who, exactly, is Miss Carter? Another school friend?"

"A friend of Miss Rouillard's, who is a lovely girl," I said, filling my plate with eggs and sausage. "I'm sure you will adore her as much I do."

"We will see." Mother had nothing else to say while I ate my breakfast. She kept watching me, a slightly puzzled expression on her face. Had she expected me to protest and fight?

Well, given how much I had disagreed with them in the last few months, it would be reasonable to assume I would continue to do so.

"I hope you have a pleasant day, Mother," I said, once I finished eating. "I will be back when I've finished my work. Would you like to walk with me there?"

Mother went still. "No, of course not. Why would you ask me that?"

"Well, as you and James trust me so little, I assumed you want to make sure of every step I take." I snapped my fingers. "Oh, yes. There is James' hired shadow. I'd forgotten about him."

"And what do you mean by that?"

With a sigh, I shook my head. No matter my disappointment with my mother, I shouldn't bait her. "Nothing. Good day, Mother."

Once upon a time, I would have kissed her cheek as I left but that was a habit I had long broken. As I walked out of the house, I wondered what had made James so eager to chaperone me at a charity auction. He only did things that would benefit himself. So, what could he possibly have to gain from my friend's event?


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday afternoon arrived sooner than I wished. I hadn't worked out any idea what James wanted. I eyed him with mistrust as we took a four-wheeler to the Rouillard townhouse. He seemed completely at ease as he chatted to Mother about some happening at his office that morning.

Once we arrived, Miss Rouillard welcomed my parents graciously. My stepfather immediately set himself to charm her and her parents. AS I watched him, I suspected by the time we left, James would have gained a new patron for his wine business.

Was that the only reason he had come? It seemed such an insignificant thing, surely there was more to it.

"Miss Sutherland!" Miss Carter appeared in front of me with a bright smile. "I am delighted to see you. What has you looking so serious today? Mind you don't let Liz catch you looking so stern. She is convinced these charitable events of hers are enjoyable affairs for everyone invited."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mother frown at Miss Carter's enthusiastic speech. "Miss Evangeline Carter, may I present you to my mother, Mrs. James Windibank,." I introduced. "Mother, this is my new friend, Miss Carter, who I've told you about."

"Delighted to meet you!" Miss Carter said, extending her hand.

Mother gave a nod of acknowledgment but said nothing. Miss Carter shifted her hand to catch my arm. "I'm sure you won't mind me taking Miss Sutherland off with me for a bit," my friend said. "I'll return her unharmed, I promise."

And just like that, I was drawn away from Mother before she could utter a word of protest. "You poor thing," Miss Carter said, keeping her arm looped around mine. "Whatever did you do to require a chaperone?"

"Disagreed with my stepfather," I said in answer. "You can see him charming Miss Rouillard now."

Miss Carter wrinkled her nose. "I thought he was being a bit too charming," she said. "Is he trying to distract her into forgetting that he has entered her home without an invitation?"

"With my stepfather, who knows?"

"Well, we shall have to find other ways of entertaining you without giving your stepfather time to interfere."

Surprised, I studied her. Her tone was sincere but why the interest in me? She let out a laugh. "I have puzzled you, have I not? Am I overwhelming you with my exuberance and wild ways?"

"Yes," I said honestly. "Though I wouldn't say you were wild."

"Oh, I'm not really, but Liz and many other ladies of my acquaintance seem to think I need to cultivate demureness," Miss Carter said, nodding towards our mutual acquaintance. "I simply enjoy life, and I want those around me to have the same enjoyment. As soon as we met, I could see that you are trying to do so but it is not so easy for you. I hope you don't mind me saying so."

"N-no," I stammered, even more astonished by her words. "I didn't think I was so easy to read."  
"Your eyes are quite expressive, even when they are hidden by spectacles."  
Though I wished to have Miss Carter explain herself further, James approached us then. "Mary, introduce me to your friend," he said, his tone tinged with disapproval.

"Miss Evangeline Carter, my stepfather, James Windibank," I said with little enthusiasm. "James, Miss Carter."

James took Miss Carter's hand and brought it up to his lips. "I am so pleased to meet you, Mr. Windibank," the lady said with a tight smile. "I'm even more pleased that you allowed Miss Sutherland to come today."

My stepfather paused. "Of course I allowed her to come," he said, glancing at me. "What has she been saying about me?"

"Oh, nothing of consequence."

For a moment, James' face darkened. I couldn't tell whether it was the words themselves or if he didn't believe Miss Carter's answer that annoyed him. "Well, then," he said. "I hope she hasn't been unsociable."

"Not at all. Miss Sutherland is the dearest person, I know," Miss Carter said with a broad smile. "In fact, I almost wish to kidnap her so she can tell me all about typing. She has graciously agreed to meet me often just for that purpose."

"Has she?" James' tone became neutral. "Her mother and I are very protective of our Mary, Miss Carter. We don't—"

"And who wouldn't be?" Miss Carter interrupted with a laugh. "Now that I have met her, I know I would be bereft without her company. But I assure you, Mr.—Winthrop, was it? No, Windibank, my apologies—Miss Sutherland shall come to no harm in my company."

I didn't think there had ever been a time when James had met a woman he could not charm. As Miss Carter smiled at him, he seemed to be at a loss for words. He finally gave a bow and walked away.

"Yes, I think I do not like him," Miss Carter said, her tone thoughtful. "I distinctly felt as though he were trying to imply negative things about you."

She didn't know the half of it. "I haven't seen the items up for auction," I said, changing the subject.

"Then, my dear Miss Sutherland, allow me to show them to you."

* * *

Miss Rouillard invited me to several charity auctions and benefits over the next few months, but I couldn't say that we became close friends. Perhaps if I had given more money, she would have been inclined to do more than tolerate me. Still, each occasion allowed me to escape my mother and stepfather for a few hours, which I was more than grateful for.

Miss Carter, on the other hand, quickly became a friend. She invited me to spend a few hours shopping, to take tea with her after I completed work, and to the theater. The first two were easy enough, for I could meet her after I finished typing. However, James refused to grant me permission for the evening out.

Shopping was an interesting experience. I'd always allowed myself to be guided by the shopgirls' opinions and suggestions. Miss Carter, however, had her own opinions and frequently contradicted the shop employees.

But I couldn't deny her advice had merit. The jewel colors she recommended added color to my complexion, and ready-made gowns fit me better than I had expected. The material was fine; even my fingers could feel the difference between them and the material my own wardrobe was made of.

Each shopping expedition we made, Miss Carter took us in search of some new item for a complete wardrobe. After nearly a month, she insisted I call her by her Christian name. Indeed, it felt as though we had known each other much longer.

Although I was unable to join her in the evening, my new friend made a point of introducing me to her beau Mr. Alfred Weare at one of Miss Rouillard's gatherings. He was no taller than I, had the start of a mustache on his upper lip, and kindness in his eyes.

"Alfred is the dearest man," Evangeline said, smiling as she spoke the young man's name. We had met for afternoon tea after I completed my work. "He wholeheartedly supports my activities, which is of the utmost importance. And he so charming. My parents approve of him, so we are all happy."

She looked so happy, I couldn't help but feel a bit envious. "I...have had a romance of my own," I found myself saying before I could think better of it. Finally! To speak of Hosmer with someone who would not tell me he hadn't existed! "But I have not seen him in so long."

Evangeline leaned forward, her eyes brightening with interest. "Oh? How exciting! You must tell me everything."

The story left my lips in a rush, so happy was I to tell it. I explained how I had met Hosmer at a gasfitters ball, and then met him in secret to avoid my stepfather's displeasure. By the time I ended with Hosmer leaving me after extracting my promise to be true, my friend was frowning.

"Oh, Mary," she said, her tone sad. "How long has it been?"

"Almost a year." It was hard to believe so much time had passed with no word from him. What had become of him? Was he still alive?

She shook her head. "Well, we must introduce you to someone nice, so you can have a proper romance."

Had she not heard the promise I had made? "Oh, no," I said in protest. "I gave my word I would be true to Hosmer."

"Yes, I heard you," Evangeline said, her tone slightly impatient. "But you knew him such a short time and met him in person a handful of times before you agreed to marry him. Clearly, he knew something would take him away since he made you promise to remain faithful. In my opinion, he had no right to exact such a promise after such a brief acquaintance."

"My mother said it was right."

"And your mother is a sterling example of faithfulness," Evangeline said, her tone sarcastic. She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I should not have said that. I'm sure your mother is a fine lady. Still, it is cruel of any man to expect a young lady to remain faithful after such a long absence."

"Surely you have read Persuasion!" I objected.

"I have. What of it?"

"Miss Anne Elliot makes the statement that a woman will 'love longest, when existence or when hope is gone,'" I said, quoting the line from memory. "It is a romantic idea, is it not?"

"True, and if you had spent more than a few hours in this man's company, I might be inclined to agree with you." Evangeline heaved a sigh. "I feel you do yourself a disservice in clinging to a man who has not explained why he has gone away or even sent word that he still lives!"

Her words made sense, though I didn't like to hear it. "Am I to forget him then? After I gave my word that I would not?"

"Dear Mary, you have said it has been a year," Evangeline said, her tone becoming kind. "If he intended to return, he would have done so. You may have intended to marry him, but you did nothing to send him away. His failure to return or send word is on him. Anyone would agree you are free to look elsewhere."

I breathed out slowly. "Perhaps." If I did move past Hosmer, James would not be able to hold it over me. And, if I were fortunate, I would meet someone who would take me away from my mother's house.

Now that was a tempting thought.

"Perhaps nothing. Trust me, Mary. You have had this hanging over you too long as it is. Surely, your mother and stepfather, for all their faults, would not think you fickle."

Reminded of my stepfather's threats, I hesitated. "In reality, James and my mother do hold it against me. They accuse me of having made up Hosmer Angel, and if I behave in a way James disapproves of, he threatens to send me to...to an asylum to recover 'my health.'"

Evangeline gave a start. "You cannot be serious!"

"I am. It is only my association with Miss Rouillard that keeps me safe. My stepfather is anxious to climb the social ladder."

"But... did you not say your mother approved of this Mr. Angel?"

"Yes, and that is what frustrates me so. She encouraged me to accept Hosmer's attention and assured me my promise was perfectly normal. Yet, after Hosmer vanished, she would not hear his name and agreed with every word James said."

Reaching out, Evangeline caught my hand and squeezed it. "You poor thing!"

"It has been a relief to tell you. I've been so afraid once others heard my story, they would side with James. I've had enough moments of questioning my own memories to feel up to defending them from people's questions."

"I have no reason not to believe you. Have you really not told any else this past year?"

"Well...I did go to a consulting detective, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, in the hopes he would be able to find Hosmer. However, my stepfather found out I had done so and forbad me from contacting Mr. Holmes again."

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes? My friend, you could not have chosen a better person to entrust the case to! I've read of Mr. Holmes' skills in The Strand. Did he never try to contact you with what he discovered?"

Sighing, I shook my head. "If he did, such a message was intercepted by James or Mother."

"And if he did not make more of an effort to contact you—and trust me, he is not one to let anything deter him—we must assume that he did not find anything of any worth," Evangeline said thoughtfully. "Well, what I recommend is that you put the whole thing behind you."

"I gave my word," I said weakly.

"Yes, you did," Evangeline agreed, her tone soothing. "And you've waited an admirable length of time for him to return. What more could any reasonable man expect from you? And don't try to argue using Jane Austen because this is a very different situation than what was presented in Persuasion."

I sipped my tea to give myself a moment to think. In the last few months, I'd only thought about Hosmer a few times. It was reasonable to decide I had waited long enough.

"I think you are right," I said slowly. "But...if he were to come and had a good explanation, surely I could forgive him then?"

Evangeline tapped her chin. "I suppose, though I have my doubts as to what would be a good explanation for a long absence," she said with a decisive nod. "And, of course, I would caution you to take your time to get to know him again and not rush to the altar with him as soon as he appears."

"Naturally." Relieved, I sat back. "You cannot imagine how much of a comfort it has been to speak of it without fearing I would be judged insane."

"It is so odd your stepfather would make such a suggestion," Evangeline said, a thoughtful frown settling on her forehead. "What could he possibly have to gain from locking you away?"

Hesitating, I ran the tip of my finger along the side of my teacup. "No doubt he hopes to keep control of my inheritance."

My friend's eyes widened. "Mary! Are you serious?"

"You knew I had inherited some money from my uncle."

"Yes, of course, but how can your stepfather have anything to say about it now?" Evangeline narrowed her eyes. "Mary, what did you do?"

"Well, I wanted to help with the household expenses, and it wasn't like I was using my inheritance," I said defensively. "In any event, I've remedied the situation and made my solicitor aware of a stipulation to my stepfather having access to the interest of my inheritance. If I am not under his roof, he cannot touch a single pound."

"That, at least, is something." Evangeline shook her head. "I can see that you have been sorely taken advantage of in your life. No wonder you resisted Liz's request for monetary donations."

Guiltily, I dropped my gaze. "I did give an anonymous donation to the orphanage," I admitted. "I did wish to help."

"But not be pulled around like a puppet, of course," Evangeline said quickly. "There's no need to apologize to me, Mary. I quite understand your feelings. And I thank you for confiding in me. I find I understand you better now, and like you all the more than I had."

Her honesty made me blush. My tea had grown cold but I finished it anyway. "Well, I should return home. My stepfather questions me when I have been away longer than usual."

"I wish you did not have to return to such an environment," Evangeline said as she rose from her chair. "Have you no other family you could visit? No one to protect you from Mr. Windibank?"

"I'm afraid I do not."

"Then, Alfred and myself will do so," Evangeline said boldly. "We shall drop by your home to check on you randomly through the week. We will invite you to the opera or to concerts. Your stepfather will have to realize he cannot hurt you when you have friends looking out for you."

How could I not be touched by such loyalty? "Thank you," was all I could say.

"We'll see you safely through this trial," Evangeline said, looping her arm around mine. "You'll see."


	7. Chapter 7

True to her word, Miss Carter appeared several times at the front door during the week. Mother was charmed by her, but when informed, James Windibank was annoyed. He called my friend a busybody and wanted to know why she kept visiting, even when she knew I would be out typing.

"She has no business always being here! Who are her family, anyway?" he would ask. "I am astonished an honorable family such as the Rouillards deign to have her about! All that suffrage nonsense is revolting!"

Of course, I kept my opinion to myself. Not that anything I said would have eased James' annoyance. He had taken Evangeline in dislike, no doubt because she encouraged me to be independent.

It was during one of her brief visits that Evangeline mentioned to my mother that she intended to introduce me to Mr. Weare's cousin. I wasn't present at the time, but Evangeline swore my mother's face paled. When I returned home, I was faced with two angry people.

"Just what game are you playing at?" James demanded as soon as I stepped through the front door. His face was red and his eyes flashed with anger.

Warily, I kept my distance. "What do you mean by that?" I asked, truly confused. "What game? I'm not playing at anything."

"So you deny that your friend" he spat out the word like is was something detestable "Isn't encouraging you to be fast and flirt with any man who comes along? That you do not intend on sullying the family name with your behavior?"

I looked beyond him. "Mother, perhaps you would be good enough to explain what your husband is going on about."

James grabbed my arm with his left hand and caught my chin with his right, forcing me to look at him. "I have warned you about being disrespectful, Mary Sutherland," he said, his tone sharp.

"James!" Mother exclaimed, her tone horrified. Finally, some semblance of compassion.

Some instinct in me forced me to be absolutely still. "I'm sorry," I said through gritted teeth. "I did not mean to be disrespectful. I just don't understand what you are talking about."

"I am talking about your friend Miss Carter playing matchmaker with you," James said, shoving me back a step. "Has everything your mother and I have done to protect you and shield you from mercenary men meant nothing? You wish to throw yourself at the first man, whoever he may be?"

My cheeks heated up, for isn't that what I had done with Hosmer? Hosmer, who had been the first man to give me attention and had been so sweet, who my mother and James claimed had never existed.

"It is my wish to be happily married, yes," I said, choosing my words with care. "Evangeline knows several eligible bachelors. If she wishes to play matchmaker and I meet my future husband, what harm has been done? You didn't imagine I would become a spinster and remain in my mother's house for the rest of my days, did you?"

James' eyes shifted. In an instant, I knew: _he'd thought exactly that. _The thought hurt more than it should have. I knew I couldn't be considered a beauty but I was handsome in my own way. I also had an inheritance. Why wouldn't I marry at some point?

"Miss Carter is a bad influence on you," James declared. He pointed a finger at me. "I forbid you from having anything to do with her. She is not welcome in this house."

"I'm sorry you disapprove of her," I said sincerely. "I will tell her she is not welcome here. However, I quite enjoy her company. We will meet elsewhere."

"Mary," James said, his tone lowering to the cold calm that signaled a warning. "There will be consequences if you disobey me."

And yet, he had threatened that so much, but nothing had happened. It had been a year since he had brought those horrible doctors with their talk of rest in an asylum. I had managed to avoid it thus far, though I knew very well that I was by no means clever.

How far could James be pushed before he acted on his threat?

"Miss Carter knows," I blurted out.

James went still. "What do you mean?" he asked after several long seconds. "What does she know?"

"Everything. About me, I mean," I said, lifting my chin. I didn't know if "She knows about Hosmer Angel, about how I have tried to find him, and what you have threatened me with. It is why she comes so often. To make sure I am safe and to assure _you _that I would be missed if I were to...disappear suddenly."

Mother gasped. "Mary Elizabeth Sutherland! Do you wish your shame be known everywhere? What if she tells the Rouillards? They will not desire to have your company!"

"Miss Carter has had my confidence for some weeks now," I said, defiantly. "She may have explained the situation to her parents, but I think it unlikely she would betray me to anyone else If I were to cut contact, surely you see she would think the worst and then it is entirely plausible she will tell."

I kept my eyes on James. It was obvious I had backed him into a corner.

"You are mad," he said slowly. There was a glint in his eye.

"No, I don't think I am," I said, softening my tone. "I will inform Evangeline that she is not welcome here. However, I will continue to meet her outside of this house. Excuse me, please, while I dress for dinner."

With as much courage as I could muster, I stepped towards the stairs. James didn't try to grab me again. From the door leading to the back of the house, I saw the maid pull her head back. A silent spectator to the battle being waged between myself and my stepfather.

Out of politeness, I endured supper. James pointedly ignored me, which was a relief. Mother kept glancing between us, but also made no attempt to speak to me. After the meal, I excused myself and escaped to my room to ride in privacy.

No more than a half hour later, Mother was in my doorway. "I forgot to tell you, Mary, this was left on the doorstep for you today," she said, unable to meet my gaze. She held a letter out to me.

Curious, I reached over and took it from her. "Thank you." I turned it over, studying the typing. As it wasn't handwritten, I knew it was not from one of my old school friends. Who else would have written to me? There was no return address, no indication of who had sent it, no postal markings of any kind.

Before I broke the seal, I looked up. Mother was watching expectantly. Instead, I set the letter aside. "Was there something else, Mother?" I asked, having no intention of reading the mysterious letter with her watching on.

"No. Are you going to read your letter?"

"Perhaps later. It doesn't seem urgent."

Her face fell and she shook her head. "I think you should read it now, Mary. It may have good news."

"A typed letter like that? My guess is it some solicitation from a charity or some note from a business. If it were a friend or someone I knew, would it not be written by hand?"

Mother didn't seem to have anything to say to that. After several awkward moments of silence, she left the room. I waited five minutes to ensure she would not return and then opened the letter. My heart caught in my throat as I read the words:

_My dearest Mary,_

_Can it be that a year has passed already? Every day, I dream of your loveliness and constancy. You have been constant, haven't you? You did promise me you would be. My heart would shatter into unfixable pieces if I knew you had begun to doubt me._

_Though we cannot be together, I must see you my darling. Let us meet where we were to have been wed this Saturday. At noon, I will be there._

_I risk my life in doing this, sweet Mary. Do not deny me this moment of happiness._

_Yours,_

_H. Angel_

After a year of no message or word, Hosmer Angel had returned.

"But why does he not explain what had happened? Where has he been all this time?" I murmured, frowning at the typewritten letter.

Was it a coincidence that this should arrive right when Evangeline has sworn to introduce me to someone new? I shook my head. What a paranoid thought! Such a thing would only be possible if Hosmer, or an acquaintance of Hosmer's, was watching me. Why would Hosmer do such a thing and remain away from me?

Why had the letter been left on the doorstep instead of sent through the post? Why such secrecy? Was Hosmer hiding from someone? My mother and stepfather, perhaps?

Breathing out, I folded the letter. Saturday was two days away. Time enough to think of what I should do.

* * *

"Do? My dear Mary, don't you find this whole situation strange?" Evangeline asked when I requested her advice over tea on Friday. "Silence for a year, and then, not an explanation, but a demand to see you! The audacity of the man!"

Flushing, I traced the edge of my teacup with my fingertip. "Yes, but what if he has a good reason for staying away?" I said, my tone unconvinced even to my own ears. "What if he has been involved in some trouble, and he couldn't take the time to explain in a brief note?"

Arching an eyebrow, Evangeline picked up the note. "If Alfred had sent such an impersonal note to me after being gone for any length of time, I can tell you I would not be pleased with him!"

"I can't...refuse to go."

"Of course not, but I shall accompany you," Evangeline said decisively. "I cannot like how this Mr. Angel has treated you, and certainly he must be told."

I'd hoped she would agree to accompany me. Sighing in relief, I held my hand out. "I don't want that letter to leave my sight," I said when Evangeline gave me a quizzical look. "After all, it is proof Hosmer exists, if it should become necessary to have proof."

"Mary, it would be poor proof," Evangeline said gently, even as she handed the letter to me. "It is typed, not even signed. It could be suggested that _you_ typed it yourself in an effort to continue the idea of there being a Hosmer Angel."

The realization took my breath away. She was right. And I did not even have the other letters from Hosmer when we were becoming acquainted. I'd left them with Mr. Sherlock Holmes, never to see them again.

"Then, I suppose it does not matter then," I said, slumping as much as my corset would allow. "I wonder you even believe me given how terribly...fictional it all sounds."

"Of course, I believe you," Evangeline cried, reaching across the table to pat my arm. "I have never seen you even tell a fib, Mary. I have no reason not to believe what you tell me, and every reason to think James Windibank capable of the terrors you have told me."

Despite her reassurance, I was disappointed my cleverness in keeping the letter safe was not as clever as I'd thought it would be.

"Now, shall Alfred and I escort you to the church tomorrow?" Evangeline asked, straightening up. "I have a great deal to say this Mr. Angel, as I've said, and Alfred shall be on hand in case there is any danger."

"Danger?" I repeated in surprise. "Why would you suspect danger?"

"Haven't you theorized there must be some danger that kept Mr. Angel away? The very fact that he sent this note clandestine hints that there is some secrecy needed. I cannot help but think there must be some danger."

"I did think as much myself," I admitted with another sigh. "It must be something truly serious to have kept him away without a word for so long."

"Then, we are agreed. Tomorrow, I shall meet you at your house and we shall go to the church together."

Reminded of my stepfather's edict, I hesitated. "I'm afraid Mr. Windibank has decided you are a terrible influence on me and has said you are not allowed at our house."

Instead of offense, Evangeline practically beamed with pride. "Influence? I am flattered!" She paused, and her face darkened. "Has he said you ought not to meet me? Has he threatened you?"  
"He has," I said with a nod. "But, honestly, I'm not entirely certain he will go through with his threat. I've warned him that you are aware of what he has said and threatened to do. It may be enough to stay his hand."

Evangeline frowned, her expression concerned. "While I applaud your boldness, Mary, I think we should be cautious. We shall meet at St. Saviour's at half-past eleven. That shall give us plenty of time to find the best place to wait for your Mr. Hosmer Angel."


	8. Chapter 8

To my relief, James Windibank had gone off on another trip unexpectedly, so I was not forced to endure another awkward meal with him. Still, I could hardly sleep that night. My mind raced with anxious thoughts and questions raised by Hosmer Angel's letter.

"What are your plans for today, my dear?" Mother asked at breakfast.

"Oh, Miss Carter asked me to shop for hats with her," I said. It was the story Evangeline and I had settled on to explain my absence from home.

"Hats?" Mother repeated sounding surprised. "My dear, is the extravagance really necessary?"  
"I didn't say I was going to buy any," I said, struggling to keep my stone reasonable. Why was my every purchase questioned as of late? It was my money to do with as I pleased. "Miss Carter would like my advice on some of the new styles."

"And that is all you are going to do? Shall I expect you back for luncheon?"

I really shouldn't have been surprised that she would be so interested in my plans. It had been thus for the past year, which made the shadow that occasionally turned up simply ridiculous. Still, I didn't want to admit I was going to St. Saviour's, not when my mother had said Hosmer Angel was not real.

What would she say if she knew I was meeting the man where he had abandoned me?

"No, I think Miss Carter and I are making a day of it," I said, spreading jam on my toast. "She said something about introducing me to Mr. Weare's cousin, which I am looking forward to."

Mother pursed her lips. "Your father will not like that."

"I disagree." I didn't go further and reference my real father since I knew it would not go well. "And what are your plans for the day, Mother?"

She shook her head. "Why are you so eager to leave, Mary?" she asked, her tone becoming plaintive. "Have I not always sheltered you? Protected you? Why would you want to leave?"

"As I told James last night, every girl hopes to marry when she grows up." I paused, thinking of some of Evangeline's suffrage friends. "Well, some girls wish to marry. Others wish to be independent. I suppose I'm a bit of both."

"But we have been happy!"

"Mother. You may have been happy, but I can honestly say I have not been." It was true. Even before I had met Hosmer I had been...content with life but not exactly happy. I hadn't been truly happy since my father passed away. "I miss Father."

"You are young. You don't know what you're talking about." Mother pushed away from the table. "After all James has done for us, you dismiss him without a thought? Without any consideration?"

"And what has James done for us, Mother?" I asked sharply. "He sold Father's business for half what it was worth. He has tried to run my life as though I hadn't a thought in my own head. He has tried to keep me from having friends, except when it suits his purposes."

"He knows what is best for you, my dear." Mother came around the table and put her hand on my arm. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"Getting hurt is a part of growing as an individual, Mother," I said evenly. "Getting hurt cannot be avoided. Some of the people closest to us can hurt us the most, sometimes with the best of intentions."

Mother's hand dropped and her expression hardened. "You really are an impossible girl."

"I'm sorry to have been such a trail to you. In fact, I'm surprised you are not more willing for me to marry and then I would not be tiresome for you anymore."

With a sniff, Mother turned away. "Do as you please. Nothing I say matters to you."

I was tired of her attempts to make me feel guilty. "Well, it is clear we are never going to agree, so we should put this subject aside." I picked up my teacup and drained the last of my tea. As I set it back down, I rose from my chair. "I hope you enjoy your day, Mother. I must be off."

She spun around, shock on her face. "And just like that? You're going shopping?"

"Yes, Mother." I wanted to step over to kiss her cheek, but I felt it wouldn't be appreciated. "I'll be home for by four o'clock."

I had hours to spare before I would meet Evangeline at St. Saviour's, but I had to get out of that house.

* * *

By the time it was half past eleven, I had been walking for some time. I was more than ready to sit down for a time. Evangeline and Mr. Weare were waiting on the pavement in front of the church when I approached.

"There you are," Evangeline said, hurrying to take my arm. "How are you feeling?"

"Nervous," I admitted. I forced a smile as I looked at Mr. Weare. "Thank you for assisting us, Mr. Weare. It is good of you to take time out of your schedule for me."

"I am happy to do it," he said immediately. "And you must call me Alfred. We are all friends, are we not?"

His cheerful, earnest expression touched me. "Indeed we are, Alfred," I said, extending my free hand. "And you must call me Mary."

He clasped my hand in his, and for a moment I thought he would bow over my hand. "Yes, yes," Evangeline said impatiently. "We are all friends and we shall stand by each other. Now, Mary, you must describe Mr. Hosmer Angel for Alfred.

Of course. Neither of them had ever met Hosmer. As I opened my mouth to answer, I had to pause. I should know what Hosmer looked like, but I was struggling to remember anything particularly defining about him.

Breathing out, I tried to explain what I could remember. "Whenever I would meet him, it was always in the evening so I never had a clear look. He was retiring and gentlemanly. He has a weak throat, and a hesitating, whispering fashion of speech. He was always well dressed, very neat and plain, but his eyes were weak, just as mine are, and he wore tinted glasses against the glare."

"Hardly a definitive description," Evangeline said with a frown. "It could describe anyone at all!"

"But not that many gentlemen would be wearing tinted glasses on a grey day like today," Alfred said quickly. His blue eyes had become serious. "A shy gentleman will not walk with confidence. I think I will know who to watch for."

"Now let us go inside," Evangeline said, turning me towards the front of the church.

It was the first time I had returned to the church since the day I was to have been married. The stone structure looked much the same. As we approached the front door, I asked, "What did you tell Alfred? I mean, how much did you—"

"Never fear, Mary," Evangeline said, her tone reassuring. "I merely told him that an old suitor of yours had asked to meet you, but you were uncertain of his intentions. It was not up to me to divulge your life story."

"Thank you." Perhaps, one day, I would explain the entirety of the situation to Alfred Weare. If he were to marry Evangeline—which seemed likely, given how fond they were of each other—, I would not want them to have any secrets from one another.

Once inside, the dim lighting and the somber atmosphere discouraged speaking. Evangeline ushered me to one of the empty pews, about halfway down the aisle. And there we sat. Though my feet appreciated the rest, it only took a matter of minutes before I became restless.

"What if he has changed his mind?" I asked in a whisper.

"Then, you will know he does not have any real affection for you," Evangeline whispered back. "And, of course, that would be painful, but wouldn't you rather know now? Before any more time has passed?"

Reluctantly, I nodded. I had already waited a year for Hosmer to return. I'd once been willing to wait years, but I knew I no longer was the same woman who had made the promise to do so. Would Hosmer find me much changed? Would he appreciate the differences in me?

The minutes seemed to pass slowly. I regretted not pinning on my watch, and Evangeline was not wearing one either. The church bells finally rang out twelve, and I twisted around in the pew.

No one was at the back of the church. No one was hurrying in through the door. Was he late?

"Mary, don't look so eager," Evangeline advised. "After all, you are not the one who needs to give an explanation. He left, without a word. You are doing him the favor in being here at all."

Sighing, I sat back in the pew. But when the front door creaked as it opened, I couldn't resist looking back again. It was a woman, bowed over with worry. Disappointed, I shook my head.

Again, time stretched on. My right foot tapped on the stone floor beneath me. "Maybe I should move away," Evangeline suggested in a low voice. "He may expect you to be alone. I will move to the side, but never fear! As soon as you approach, I will be right by your side."

Reluctantly, I gave a nod, understanding her point. Hosmer may think I had not come if he saw two women together. Although he hadn't specified I needed to come alone. Perhaps he thought I still had no friends?

A few minutes passed, and I couldn't continue sitting. I rose and left the pew. It was while I was walking to examine one of the exquisite stained glass windows that I heard a sound behind me. Spinning around, I caught sight of a figure in the doorway. The silhouette was of a man, clad in a suit.

"Hosmer?" I exclaimed, uncertain if it was truly him.

To my right, Evangeline stood up and twisted around. A moment later, the figure fled back the way he had come. Without a second to think, I rushed after him. My rational mind told me I couldn't know it was Hosmer, but I had to see for certain.

When I burst through the door, I saw no sign of the figure nor any sign of Alfred. Evangeline ran up to me. "Did you see him? Where is Alfred?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said, looking up and down the road. There were people walking on the pavement. "What a silly thing I did. I ought to have waited! Did I scare him off, do you think?"

"Why should he have run off when you merely called his name?" Evangeline answered, frowning as she too searched the street. "If it were not he, he would have denied it. Instead, he ran off. Perhaps he saw me react and guessed I was there to support you?"

We remained on the pavement for some time when we spotted Alfred returning. "I'm sorry, Mary," he said immediately. "I wasn't able to catch up to him."  
"You believe it was Hosmer Angel, then?" I asked apprehensively.

"He had tinted glasses. He had the collar of his coat turned up and a scarf around his neck. He kept his head down as though he didn't want to be seen," Alfred said with a nod. "I wasn't sure at first, but when he came rushing out, I suspected it must be. He ran down the street to where a hansom cab waited for him."  
So he had come, expecting to leave abruptly. Had he even intended to speak to me?

"Well, if he really intends to explain himself, he will do so soon enough," Evangeline said, scowling down the street as if Hosmer would be aware of her disapproval. "And no doubt, he will blame you for ruining a tender reunion."

Alfred looked at me anxiously. "Mary, I am sorry."

"It isn't your fault, Alfred," I said, wanting to reassure him. "If Hosmer really intended to speak to me, I doubt anything would have kept him away. Can we go somewhere else? I told my mother I would be shopping all afternoon."

Evangeline brightened, although Alfred screwed up his face. "Evangeline, she said she forgives me," he said. "There's no need for you to punish me."

* * *

Evangeline's suspicion that I would receive another note, chastising me for not being alone, did not come about. An entire year passed. No other message came from Hosmer, and on the anniversary of his disappearance, I was rather ashamed to realize I didn't think of him until I was dressing for bed. My life had continued on without him, and I could hardly remember what he had looked like.

I was soon to be reminded in the worst possible way.


	9. Chapter 9

It was a lovely September day when I stepped out of the barrister's office, and I was surprised to find Evangeline there. "Finally," she said, catching my arm. "I've been trying to think of a way to see you."

"Why? What's wrong?" I asked, concerned. "Are you well?"

"Wait until we get to the tea shop," she said. And then she began to tell me about a party she had attended the evening before with Alfred. She kept talking for the ten minutes it took us to walk to the tea shop we usually met at.

Then, when we were seated, she waited until fresh tea and pastries had been brought. "I thought you ought to see this before you go back to that wretched place you've called home," she said, bringing out a magazine.

Curious, I took it from her. The Strand was a popular one, I knew, though I had never read it myself. A page was turned down and I opened to it. It was a story entitled, A Case of Identity and was written by a Dr. John Watson, a name it took me several moments to recognize. "My goodness!"

"Take your time," Evangeline said, her eyes worried. "It is not an easy read."

I took a sip of my tea and settled my spectacles on my nose to read. It didn't take me long to recognize myself in the story. As I read Dr. Watson's telling of my visit to Baker Street, my own memories came flooding back. I'd forgotten he had been in the room, so eager had I been to put it before Mr. Holmes.

It was a faithful telling, though my naive words made humiliation wash over me. Ten years, at least? Why had I made such a statement? And now any person who picked up the magazine would know about my foolishness.

And then Dr. Watson's description of me having a general air of being fairly well-to-do in a vulgar, comfortable, easy-going way made me cringe. Would he say the same of me now that I had allowed myself to be guided by my friend's impeccable taste? I shook my head to get rid of the selfish thought.

"Did you see it?" Evangeline asked, her tone anxious.

"I'm still reading." How did the story end to make my friend so upset? Had Mr. Holmes solved the case and never been able to contact me?

To read Mr. Holmes' method of guessing my occupation and hurry that morning was enlightening. I had wondered how he had been so accurate when he had never met me before, but it was obvious now that I knew. Oh, to be so observant myself! How much heartache could I

I read of Mr. Holmes' interaction with my stepfather, feeling dread coiling in my stomach. "But between ourselves, Windibank, it was as cruel and selfish and heartless a trick in a petty way as ever came before me. Now, let me just run over the course of events, and you will contradict me if I go wrong."

"No," I breathed. "No, it can't be."

James Windibank, with the help of my own mother —as Mr. Holmes goes on to explain—, had disguised himself as Hosmer Angel, courted me to the point of engagement, and then disappeared in a manner to make a lasting impression on me. The fiend! How could he?

And I had been in ignorance of it all! Even worse, I had been so easily taken in!

_"If I tell her she will not believe me. You may remember the old Persian saying, 'There is danger for him who taketh the tiger cub, and danger also for whoso snatches a delusion from a woman.' There is as much sense in Hafiz as in Horace, and as much knowledge of the world."_

Shaking, I lowered the magazine. "I cannot believe it," I said faintly. I couldn't bring myself to meet her gaze. What must she think of such a shameful tale? "How could he? How could my mother do such a thing?"

"I am so sorry, Mary," Evangeline said, pushing a fresh cup of tea towards me. "I could hardly believe it myself when I read it this morning."

"My mother helped him." I curled my hands around my teacup, letting it warm my cold hands. "All this time and Mr. Holmes knew. He made no attempt to warn me I was in the power of...of..." I couldn't think of a word to describe my stepfather. "It has been two years!"

And yet...beneath my anger was shame. I had been devoted to Hosmer at the time. As Dr. Watson reported in the story, I had been determined to keep my word. If I had heard this at the time, would I have been willing to accept it?

"Mr. Holmes does have one redeeming action in all this," Evangeline said, reaching over to take the magazine. "He frightened your stepfather and threatened to horsewhip him for what he had done."

"And yet, he left me in the man's power without a word of warning." At least now, James forbidding me to contact Mr. Holmes made sense. He'd hoped to keep me from learning what he had done.

"It was a cruel thing to do," Evangeline said fiercely. Although I couldn't be sure whether she meant Mr. Holmes or my stepfather. She poked at the pastry she had mangled while waiting for me to finish reading. "What are you going to do now?"

I'd been so caught up in the humiliation of the story that I hadn't given a thought to what I should do. Ought I to just go back home as though nothing had happened? Where else could I go? Did I dare put myself back in the power of my stepfather? What would he do now that his cruel plot had been revealed?

And hadn't Mr. Holmes suspected James Windibank would move on to real crimes? Had that happened already?

"I-I don't know."

"If you need someplace to go, you are more than welcome to come home with me," Evangeline said softly. "It's not a permanent solution, I know, but it would give you time to think and consider what your next step will be."

Relieved, I nodded. "Thank you. That will be helpful."

"Do you want me to go with you to your mother's house so you can pack a bag?"

I checked the time. There were still a few hours before my stepfather would return home. And yet, I didn't want to take any chance. "If you wouldn't mind. I don't know how my mother will react to me leaving the house."

"Probably as well as my own mother would react if I made such a decision," Evangeline said, her tone sympathetic.

"Will your mother be upset that you did not give her any warning of company coming?"

She shrugged in an unladylike way. "When I explain, she'll understand. She is already fond of you."

My stomach churned and twisted, so I set my tea aside. "Well, I would like to get this over with as quickly as possible. Shall we go now?"

My friend nodded, paid for our tea, and then hurried me out of the tea shop. She hailed a hansom cab and then we made the journey to my mother's home in silence. The driver agreed to wait for us and then Evangeline followed me into the house.

"Oh, there you are, Mary," Mother said, coming from the parlor. Her lips turned down when she saw who was with me. "And Miss Carter is with you. Well. Mary didn't say you would be visiting today. I'm afraid I wasn't prepared for visitors."

"A pleasure, Mrs. Windibank," Evangeline said, nodding her head. "We won't be here long, I promise. Mary is just getting some things together and then you can go about your day as you please."

Alarm appeared on Mother's face. "What do you mean?"

"Evangeline, perhaps you would show my mother what you showed me while I pack," I said, gesturing at the magazine my friend still held. "I think that will explain everything best."

Nodding, Evangeline opened to the story and handed over the magazine. "I think you will find this particularly interesting, Mrs. Windibank. I found it to be a fascinating read, although you already know quite a bit about the matter."

I hurried upstairs. Once I was in my room, it was difficult to think. What would I need? How long would I be staying with my friend? Was there anything I absolutely could not leave behind? If I did forget something, would I be allowed back to get it or would I lose it forever?

Putting my hand on my wall, I tried to catch my breath. All of a sudden, I felt like I couldn't breathe, and my heart was racing beneath my corset. Tears pricked my eyes as I bent over. What was I going to do?

I took a deep breath and forced myself to straighten up. When I was at Evangeline's house, I would be able to think. My hands still shook as I selected a couple of outfits from my wardrobe.

Before I was able to pack, I had to ring for Sally to bring me a carpetbag from the attic. We didn't have many pieces of luggage, but this had been one James had used when he went to France. The maid found it with relative ease, while I waited impatiently in my room.

"Do you need help, miss?" she asked, standing back as I began to fold my clothing.

"Thank you, but no. That will be all." I was eager to be away, now that it was decided. Another pair of hands would only get in my way.

A half hour had passed before I was certain I was ready to go. Mother hadn't come up, so I imagined she was still reading the story. My bag in hand and what little cash I had in my reticule, I made my way down the stairs.

"No, don't you see? This is all a cruel fabrication," I heard Mother say from the parlor. "No one with any sense would believe a word of it. Once my husband is home, he will find this Dr. Watson and sue for slander."

"It cannot be considered slander if it is true, Mother," I said as I approached the doorway. "I'm ready, Evangeline. Thank you for being patient with me. I did not mean to take so long."

Swiftly, Evangeline jumped to her feet. "Of course. Good day, Mrs. Windibank. You may keep that copy of the magazine. I'm sure I can easily purchase another one."

"Mary? Where are you going?" Mother asked as she stood up. Her face was pale and her voice shaky. "What do you think you are doing?"

"I am going to spend some time with my friend," I said evenly. I allowed Evangeline to take my bag from me. "Dr. Watson's story has given me a great deal to think about. I will also be speaking to Mr. Douglas about how my allowance is handled from now on."

"You cannot leave! What will your father think?"

My limbs felt heavy and it took all of my energy to face my mother. "I honestly think my father—my real father—would be very proud of me for finally doing the sensible thing. Goodbye, Mother. I'm sure I will send you a message after a while."

To my horror, when I was going out the front door, James Windibank was strolling along the pavement. "Mary," he called out. "Where are you going at this time of day?"

Why was he returning already? Had he been warned of the story? He didn't seem panicked or upset. Had he simply decided to come home early?

"Mary is coming to stay with me for a time, Mr. Windibank," Evangeline said from the hansom cab. She had already put my bag in the hansom cab. "I'm sure your wife is eager to explain the situation."

"Situation?" James repeated. His entire body tensed. "Mary, I haven't given you permission to leave the house."

"I do not have to ask permission," I said. I didn't want to argue but I was tired of having him control me and question everything I did. Even more so now that I knew what he had done! "I am an adult, James, and I have made a decision."

He reached out swiftly and caught my wrist. "I think you're forgetting your place in this family."

"And I think you've overestimated your influence on me, Hosmer."

With a start, he stepped back, his eyes widening. "What did you say?"

"I think you should speak to your wife, Mr. Windibank," Evangeline said, stepping between me and him. "Your actions two years ago have been revealed to the world. Good day, sir!"

Evangeline took my arm and turned me to the waiting hansom cab. The driver was looking far too interested in our conversation, which was embarrassing, to say the least. I climbed in quickly, eager to be away.

"Mary!" James exclaimed. "Mary, you will get out right now and come inside."

My friend slammed the door closed. "Drive on," she ordered.

To my great relief, James didn't chase after us. "Well, that was unpleasant," Evangeline said as she settled back. "But now you are safely away. You shan't be bothered by them again."

"Somehow, I don't think it's as simple as that."


	10. Chapter 10

Evangeline's parents, who I had only met in a handful of times before, were not at all surprised with my sudden invasion of their home. They both expressed their horror when Evangeline explained the situation, and Mr. Carter promised he would help me however he could. Though I wasn't sure what kind of help he could give me, I appreciated the offer all the same. We didn't speak of the situation over dinner, though I'm sure Evangeline pulled Alfred Wilson aside to tell him all when he arrived.

After a night of sleeplessness, I still didn't know what I was going to do. Certainly, the Carters were kind to allow me to stay with them but it wasn't a permanent solution. I had no way of discovering if I had any extended family who would be willing to take me in. There seemed only one thing left.

I would have to take lodgings.

It was perfectly acceptable for a young lady, wasn't it? After all, young women traveled to London for employment all the time. They had to sleep somewhere if they weren't provided lodgings in a large house or store.

Off course, my first step would be a visit to Mr. Douglas. My mother and her husband would not get a penny more of my inheritance. I even intended on purchasing several copies of The Strand, so that I could share it with anyone who was skeptical or judgemental of my decision.

Though I would ask Mr. Douglas, I suspected Mr. Holmes was correct in the story. There would be no repercussions for my stepfather's actions.

Evangeline volunteered to accompany me, but I chose to go alone. She tried to insist it was the least a friend would do. After all, she had her own life and I certainly didn't want to just take over with my own affairs.

The day was gray and gloomy when I stepped outside. I shivered as a cold wind blew. Perhaps it was my bleak mood that affected my view of the day's weather. I almost hailed a passing hansom cab but decided a walk would be just the thing to dispel some of my nervous energy.

Mr. Douglas was surprised to see me. However, once I explained why I had come, he was happy to clear his schedule for me. He listened without judgment as I detailed everything that had happened in the last two years and then asked questions to clarify the situation.

It took a good two hours, and I produced a copy of the Strand for him to have. He agreed that my mother and James had forfeited any right to my inheritance with their actions. When I asked if there were any legal action to be taken, Mr. Douglas promised he would investigate but warned he didn't think it likely. He also advised me to consider making a will to protect my assets in case anything happened.

"I do not wish for you to be taken advantage of, my dear Miss Sutherland," he said kindly. "And I am appalled I have no protected you as much as I ought to have."

I wish I could say I felt better when I left, but I didn't. The weight of the world still remained on my shoulders. There was no clear course in front of me. Where could I go?

Of course, I still had my work to occupy myself. In fact, there was a stack of documents in need of being typed up.

All of a sudden, I felt a pair of hands on my back and then I was stumbling into the street. Gasping, I tried to keep myself from falling onto my face. There was a shout, and then I heard the frantic whinny of a horse.

A hand grabbed my arm and wanked me back. A hansom cab rushed passed, the driver shouting obscenities at me. How close I had been to being harmed, perhaps losing my life! There were other voices asking questions and exclaiming over what had happened. "What were you thinking?" a man asked from behind me.

Did he think I had stepped into the street on purpose? Before I turned around, I took a deep breath. "Thank you for your assistance," I said as I faced the small crowd that had fathered. "I have never been pushed into the street before, so I am grateful you were on hand to help me."

"Poor dear," an older woman said, sympathy in her voice. "No wonder you look so pale! Who would do something so mean spirited?"

"A likely thing," said the man who I presumed had been my rescuer. He looked to be a few years older than me, and a couple of inches taller. One eyebrow was raised over brown eyes. "Why would anyone do something so hurtful?"

"Why would I lie?" I demanded. But I had a moment of doubt. Had I been pushed? I definitely had felt hands on my back. The street wasn't so crowded it could have happened accidentally. Yes, I had been pushed. "No matter. I must be on my way."

With the excitement over, most who had stopped went on their way. "Are you sure you are well?" the woman asked, her brow creased with concern. "Should we summon a constable? Do you think you are in some kind of danger?"

Danger. James. Of course! Why hadn't I made the connection immediately? Had he anticipated I would visit my solicitor and waited outside in an attempt to take his revenge?

"My poor girl, you must sit down!" the woman exclaimed, patting my arm. "You have gone as white as a sheet! You, sir! Give her some support!"

The skeptical gentleman, to my surprise, moved forward. "Are you well?" he asked, offering his arm. His tone had softened.

"I am well," I said quickly. Being in the open had suddenly made me feel vulnerable. "If you could, perhaps, hail me a cab, I would like to return to my friend's home."

He narrowed his eyes for a moment and then nodded. As he stepped closer to the road, the woman patted my arm again. "Poor thing," she said again. "You are not having a very good day, are you?"

She didn't know the half of it. I managed a shaky smile as I glanced around. There were no familiar faces, though I hadn't really expected to see any. James' shadow who had followed me so long had never gotten close enough for me detect any details.

"Miss," the gentleman said, getting my attention. A hansom cab had drawn up, and he was holding the door open.

I thanked the woman for her concern, assured her I was well enough to be on my way, and then stepped to the cab. Again, the gentleman surprised me by offering his hand to help me in. Murmuring my thanks, I accepted his assistance and climbed into the hansom cab.

Then, to my surprise, the gentleman climbed in himself and took up the space next to me. "Where shall I escort you?" he asked.

"It isn't necessary for you to come along, sir," I said sharply. Peace and time to think were all I longed, and what kind of gentleman entered a cab without a lady's permission? "I'm sure you have other responsibilities to see to, without involving yourself with such a clumsy and thoughtless lady as me."

He shook his head. "It would be ungentlemanly of me if I were to send you on your way without being sure you were well," he said. "And would you have me endure that old lady's frowns and scolds if I dared do so?"

Seeing no way of ousting him, I murmured Evangeline's address. He raised an eyebrow yet again and then conveyed the information to eh driver. As the cab began to move, he said, "So you are visiting the Carters?"

"Are you acquainted with them as well?" I asked in more than a little surprise.

"Mr. Carter is an associate of my father," he said, with a slight inclination of his head. "Forgive me. I have not introduced myself. I am Jasper Irdale."

"Mary Sutherland," I said, offering my hand. A friend of the Carters was certain to be worthy of my friendship, even if he had offended me.

He clasped his hand around mine. "While I would say the pavement was not crowded enough for someone to accidentally bump you into the street, I find it hard to believe you were pushed," he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

In an instant, all my intention of being pleasant vanished. "Well," I said with a huff. I pulled my hand away, resisting the urge to slap him. "I am astonished you chose to accompany me when you think I made the story up."

"Obviously I could not allow you to wander around causing mayhem," Mr. Irdale said, waving his hand dismissively. "Who knows the trouble you could cause? Someone less kind might deem it necessary to confine you for your own sanity and safety."

My heart stuttered and I swallowed hard. "Stop the cab."

"What?"

"Now!" I hadn't meant to shout, but I had to get out of the confined space. It was difficult to breathe.

Mr. Irdale rapped on the top of the cab, which then slowed. Without waiting for the hansom to come to a stop, I lurched out the door. I stumbled as I reached the street, but kept myself upright. My hands were shaking as I strode away. There was passerby, who I'm sure must have been startled by my less than graceful exit., but I kept my gaze straight ahead.

How dare he even suggest such a thing? Why would he be so specific?

"Miss Sutherland!" Mr. Irdale exclaimed, following me. "Where are you going? Miss Sutherland!"

I only stopped when a boy stepped in front of me. "Miss Sutherland?" he asked, his eyes bright with curiosity and eagerness. He held up a magazine I knew all too well. "Like in the Sherlock Holmes story?"

"Alexander!" A woman—his mother, I presumed —exclaimed, catching his arm. "Don't be so rude. I do apologize, Miss. My son can be so impetuous at times, especially when it comes to those detective stories. Come along, Alexander."

She hurried the boy away, scolding him. Hadn't I feared people would recognize me from the story? Sutherland was not a common name.

"How did that boy know your name?" Mr. Irdale asked from beside me.

"I suggest, Mr. Irdale, that if you would like answers to your questions, you first purchase a copy of The Strand," I told him with as much dignity as I could muster. "I must return to my friend's home now. Good day."

I walked on, eager to put it all behind me. This time, Mr. Irdale didn't follow me, which I was grateful for. My mind was racing with everything that had happened in the last half an hour. I didn't need to defend myself or explain myself to someone who may or may not be the friend he claimed to be with my friends.

Once again, I was looking over my shoulder every few seconds. Though honestly, after the crowd that had been gathered around me, the culprit would have been an idiot to stay in the area. James Windibank was not an idiot, if it had been him, but I could not say the same for any man that may have been hired to harm me.

Worry plagued me the entire walk back to the Carter's. Would I never be free of my stepfather? When would I have my life back?


	11. Chapter 11

After I told Evangeline what had happened, she vowed not to let me go anywhere alone. "I should not be surprised that such a cruel person would resort to such criminal methods because he has been thwarted, but I am!" she exclaimed. "Well, he will find that it will not do. He shall not have another chance to do you harm."

"But for how long?" I asked. "Must I live the rest of my life always looking over my shoulder? And you know I cannot remain in your parents' house for long."

"They are happy to have you here!" she said in protest.

I shook my head. "Be that as it may, you know I am right."

"Well, then, did not Mr. Holmes say in the story that he had no doubt James Windibank would progress to more criminal acts?" Evangeline asked suddenly. Her eyes brightened. "We must discover whether that it is true or not!"

"Why?" I didn't even bother trying to hide my puzzlement. What was she trying to get at? "And how do you recommend I do so?"

"We must hire an investigator, of course. And we will do so that we may have your stepfather apprehended for any crimes he may have committed in the past year or so. If he is imprisoned, you will not have to worry about him again."

"Do you think Mr. Holmes would take such a case?"

Evangeline frowned. "To be honest, I'm not entirely convinced Mr. Holmes should be the one we hire for this job. You asked him to find Hosmer Angel for you, and though he did so, he didn't tell you. He let all this time go by without a single warning to you."

"True," I conceded reluctantly. "But he is the best, isn't he? Dr. Watson reported him to be quite angry with my stepfather for what he had done. Surely, he would be willing to aid me in this."

My friend twisted her face in a mixture of reluctance and thoughtfulness. "You do have a point," she said with a sigh. "Very well. Let us go to Mr. Holmes, and at once! I would like to give him a piece of my mind on his shabby treatment of you."

A laugh bubbled up and left my lips. "I think that once you are in his presence, you may think differently," I said. "Though he can be very considerate and an excellent listener, he has an air about him which warns a lady not to cut up at him. He wouldn't tolerate such treatment."

"Well, I shan't allow him to intimidate me!"

However, I was never to see whether Evangeline was intimidated or not. When we arrived at 221 Baker Street the next afternoon, the housekeeper informed us that Mr. Holmes was gone and she couldn't say when he would return. She closed the door firmly before we could protest.

"That is very irritating," Evangeline said as she turned from the door. "I wonder if Alfred knows where we could find another detective."

We began walking along the pavement. Overhead, the clouds darkened ominously. "We should return," I said uneasily. Neither of us had brought an umbrella, and I had no desire to get soaked with rain. "Perhaps your father may have a suggestion?"

"Perhaps," Evangeline said with a sigh. She raised her hand to summon a hansom. "I wish there was something we could do now. I dislike uncertainty and waiting."

I had to laugh at her displeasure. How very like her it was! The hansom came to a halt and Evangeline gestured for me to climb in before her. I no sooner had both feet in the cab when it jolted forward.

With a cry, I fell on to the seat. "Mary!" I heard Evangeline scream. "Help! Police! Stop that cab! Mary!"

The cab bumped and swayed as it raced along. I struggled to right myself. "Stop this instant!" I cried, banging on the back of the cab. "I demand you stop!"

Of course it did not. I was flung against the side as it turned a corner. Where was I being taken? Somewhere I did not wish to be, that was certain!

The buildings outside were flying by at a dizzying speed. I tried to take stock of myself, to make sense of the situation I had found myself in. Kidnapping, for nothing else could clearly explain it, was the last thing I would have expected from my stepfather, for who else could it be?

Should I try to jump? Did I dare risk my neck? If I hurt myself by jumping for the pavement, how would that help my situation? Or would it be better to brazen it out?

Steadying myself, I tried to get a good look at where I was. The brief glance was enough to tell me that I was in familiar territory. I was close to my mother's home. Was that where I was being taken? But, why? Didn't he realize it was sure to be the first place my friends searched for me?

Unless they thought it would be ridiculous to look for me at so obvious a place and they wouldn't even make the attempt? Was James so devious to think of such a thing? But how could he know Evangeline well enough to make an assumption about what she might think?

My head ached from such convoluted reasoning. I kept myself braced upright in the cab. Once we had arrived at Mother's house, I intended to give my kidnapper a large piece of my mind.

* * *

As I had expected, the cab came to a stop behind the house. No doubt to avoid drawing attention to us. I crossed my arms and waited for the driver to come down.

"You will behave yourself, Mary," James said as he came in to view. "Or there will be consequences."

"I have no desire to enter that house, Mr. Windibank," I said with as much dignity as I could muster. "Or would you prefer me to call you as you once introduced yourself to me, Mr. Hosmer Angel?"

With a sneer, he reached in and grabbed my arm so tightly I let out a cry of pain. He dragged me from the cab and then to the servants' back entrance of the house. "Let go of me!" I exclaimed, trying to dig my heels into the ground. "This is absurd! Stop at once!"

But he wouldn't listen or even pause. He had me inside within a matter of minutes, crushing my hope one of the neighbors might take notice. I saw no sign of the cook or maid, not that I would have expected them to been able to help me. James would have ensured he was bringing me somewhere I would have no help.

Just as I wondered if my mother was even aware of what her husband was doing, she stepped into the hallway. "Oh, Mary," she said with a sigh. Her shoulders were stooped and her hands were clasped together. "What have you done now?"

Her words shouldn't have surprised or saddened me. I was always to blame for everything. "I have done nothing," I said, despite it all. She was my mother. Was it possible all maternal sympathy had left her? "In fact, I was about to return to Evangeline's house when James forced me here."

"And why should he not?" Mother asked, her tone reproachful. "After you left so suddenly, of course your father would wish you home in whatever way possible. You've caused quite a scandal, haven't you, Mary?"

She wouldn't listen to reason, but I hadn't expected her to. "If my father—my real father, John Sutherland—saw what you have done, he would be very disappointed in you," I said as James Windibank pushed me past her.

There was a flash of shame, but she didn't say a word. At the stairs, I grabbed onto the banister. "I've had enough of this!" I cried, locking my fingers around the wood. "Release me at once, James Windibank!"

"Stop fighting me, Mary!" he exclaimed, his voice full of exasperation. He managed to reach around me and pried my fingers free. "Can't you understand the harm you are doing to your mother and your family? You cannot be allowed to roam free in this state!"

"And what do you plan to do? Send me to Bethlem Asylum?" I demanded, trying to shove him against the wall. He had anticipated my move, though, and I couldn't budge him an inch.

"I will do what I see fit."

I had spoken mockingly before, not realizing how close to the truth I was! James would have his two doctors back and then they would carry me off to an asylum.

"You won't get away with this!" I cried, fighting every step up the staircase. "I have friends who will be searching for me. They won't stand for any harm to come to me."

"And what will they do?" James asked angrily. "Nothing! This has nothing to do with them. A father has the right to see to his daughter's welfare. Any man would agree. Struggling will only make this harder on yourself. "

We had come to the top. I managed to bring my heel down on his foot and he cursed in pain.

"James! Mary, please!" Mother's voice had a pleading note in it. "Can't you understand this is for your own good?"

"The one thing I understand quite clearly is that James only does anything for his own good and no one else's," I said defiantly. "My friends will come for me. Even if you try to hide me away in an asylum, it will do you no good."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" James shoved me down the hallway.

"Didn't you ever stop to wonder what I had done at my solicitor's office yesterday?" I asked triumphantly. Who knew what he would do when he heard, but I had to speak out! "Mr. Douglas counseled me on the benefits of a will, and he has already begun to carry out my instructions regarding the dispensation of my inheritance."

Again, James cursed. "A judge will easily overturn that when he hears what the doctors have to say," he said. "You are not as clever as you think you are."

"And when my personal doctor who knows me better than two men who met me for a half hour over a year ago says otherwise?" I asked, enjoying his annoyance. "And when my solicitor says I am as sane as anything? When I have Dr. Watson's published story about what you have done? What do you think will happen then?"

With a great thrust, James forced me into what had been my bedroom. I caught myself on the bedpost to keep from falling to the ground. As I straightened up, he came further into my bedroom. I eyed him in distrust.

"I have had enough of this independent attitude of yours," he said. "What do you think you will gain by making a spectacle of yourself? What will people think if they hear you have abandoned your family?"

"Well, if they've read _The Strand _they will think I have finally shown some sense." I had barely spoken when James strode closer and grabbed my arm. "Let go of me!" I cried, struggling again.

Before I had time to react, he pressed his lips against mine.


	12. Chapter 12

Shocked, I went still. What in the world—? What was he doing? I managed to get my free hand between us and I shoved him back.

"Don't you understand what it has been like to have you in this house, Mary?" he demanded. His eyes had a wild look in them now. "We're not so far apart in age, you know."

"Are you out of your mind? You are married to my mother!" I said, keeping my hand up to keep him away. He still had a firm grip on my right arm. "You had me call you 'Father' for several years! And you think I would just...accept this overture of...of affection? You repulse me!"

James' face darkened. "Why couldn't you have let things be?" he demanded. "You were not harmed and things were fine."

"Fine for you, perhaps, but I definitely do not agree that I wasn't hurt by what you did." I swiped my hand over my mouth. "Unless you have something informative to say, kindly leave me alone."

Without a word, he strode to the door, exited the room and then slammed the door shut. I heard the click of the lock a moment later. "You won't be able to keep me in here forever!" I shouted at him through the wood for good measure.

I didn't get a response, which wasn't a surprise at all. As I glanced around my room, I counted myself fortunate that he hadn't done anything more than grab me and verbally express his anger. I'd certainly provoked him enough. Although I now would most certainly have some terrible bruises, I wasn't seriously harmed.

However, I was angry. Angry about what James and my mother had done to me. Angry that they wouldn't let me go. Angry that my life had been revealed to the world without permission. Angry to be locked inside a room I had once loved.

Determined, I strode to the window and managed to get it open. The rush of breeze cooled my face. I poked my head out and looked about. Below me, the street was quiet and no one was walking by. Beneath my fingertips, the bricks provided little in the way of foot or finger holds.

"It was a foolish hope," I said with a sigh. After all, what did I know about climbing down a wall? In my skirt and shoes, it would have been impossible, of course.

As I considered my situation, I heard a four-wheeler coming down the street at a fast pace. It came to a halt in front and, to my delight, Evangeline charged out of the cab. "Evangeline!" I called out.

She twisted around before looking up. "Mary! Are you well?"

"I'll be better when I am released from this room."

Anything I'd intended to say was forgotten when I saw the three gentlemen who appeared out of the cab. Mr. Carter and Alfred I had expected, but the third was a shock. Mr. Jasper Irdale? Why had they brought him along? Puzzled, I shook my head.

"You will be free in a moment, Miss Sutherland," Alfred said, peering up at me. His tone was quite fierce for someone who was usually a genial and amiable young man.

"Thank you!" I pulled myself back into my room to wait for my rescuers.

It wasn't more than a minute before I could hear shouting from below. Another two minutes brought the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs and then in the hallway. And then, the door was open.

"Oh, Mary! Are you really alright?" Evangeline asked as she entered. In her hand was the key. Her eyes were bright with anger and victory. "When that cabbie—your fiend of a stepfather, I assume?—took off with you, I was never more afraid in my life! I wasn't sure if we would find you unharmed."

"I am fine," I said, embracing her as soon as she reached me. "My dress has ripped under my arm, the heel of my boot is now loose, and I've lost my hat. Other than that, no damage has been done. James was going to send me to an institution, so he put me in here to wait for the doctors' arrival."

"Horrible man!"

"I trust your father and Alfred have convinced my stepfather to see reason?" I asked as I stepped away.

Evangeline heaved a sigh. "I'm not sure such a thing is possible," she said, gesturing to the door. There were still loud voices coming through the open door, though not as loud as before. "I believe Mr. Irdale has taken charge. Your mother tried to keep me away, but I was having none of that. Do you feel like going down, or shall we find a way to sneak out?"

At that moment, I knew Evangeline was more than a friend. She was the sister I had never had, the family who would stand by me through anything.

"Oh, Evangeline, what would I do without you?" I asked, grasping her hand. "You are, without a doubt, the truest friend in all of London. I don't deserve your friendship."

"Pish," she said, squeezing my fingers in response. "Come. Let's see what's happening downstairs."

Arm-in-arm with Evangel;line, I went down the stairs. Mother was standing at the bottom, wringing her hands together. "Mary!" she exclaimed on seeing me. "What have you done? You must put a stop to this at once."

"She hasn't done a thing, Mrs. Windibank," Evangeline said indignantly. "It was your husband who kidnapped her and brought her here against her will. And for what? To keep her where he could have her taken to an insane asylum for no reason?"

"This is a family matter, Miss Carter," Mother said with an attempt at dignity. "This doesn't concern you at all."

"To have a dear friend locked away for no reason most certainly concerns me!"

"...she is not leaving this house or I will have the law on you!" James said, his voice raised in the parlor. "She isn't well, and I—her mother and I, I mean—we are trying to make sure she gets the help she needs."

"You mean to send her to an asylum?" Alfred asked, her tone derisive. "We know you have tried to do so in the past."

With a proud smile, Evangeline drew me to the doorway. James Windibank was facing off against the three gentlemen who had come for me.

"If you do not allow Miss Sutherland to leave, we will summon the law on you," Mr. Irdale said, his voice unyielding yet calm. "She has the right to go where she chooses, and to constrain her against her will is criminal."

"She will not leave!" James insisted.

"I will," I said just loud enough to get everyone's attention. As they all looked at me, I realized what a fright I must look. Nevertheless, I held my chin up. "I do not wish to be here."

There was a kind of desperation in James' eyes, and he tried to come toward me. Mr. Irdale put a hand on my stepfather's shoulder to keep him back. "Mary, you are being unreasonable," James said, shrugging the hand off.

"I disagree," I said calmly. "I am well within my rights to leave. What woman would stay when she discovers her stepfather has repeatedly tried to take advantage of her?"

"The words of a sane and reasonable person," Mr. Carter said with a nod.

"Mary..." James tried again.

"No. You'll not see a penny more of my inheritance. I was more than happy to allow you to draw from my account to help with the household, while I was here. But no longer. Not now that I know the lengths to which you will go to get it."

"And, this may be an irrelevant point," Mr. Irdale spoke up. "But Sir Rouillard has become concerned about some of the charities you enlisted his daughter's assistance for. There is an investigation begun, which I'm sure will take up you time."

Charities? James? He'd asked Miss Rouillard's help for charities? When? What charities? My mind spun with this new information.

All color had drained from my stepfather's face.

"I think we should be off," Alfred said. "I think we've made our point."

"No, I think there is one thing that should be made a bit clearer." Mr. Irdale's voice had taken on a threatening note. "If you, James Windibank, ever step foot near Miss Sutherland again, you can be sure we, her friends, will use every avenue of the law to ensure you never do so again."

Friend? Mr. Irdale? After he had protested my story the day before?

"Good day, sir," Evangeline said, her voice cheerful. "Come along, Mary. I'm sure you are more than ready to put yourself right after such a trying few hours."

I was, and as there seemed like nothing more to say to James or my mother, I hurried out of the house. Evangeline and I sat in the forward facing seats, while the three gentlemen squished together opposite us. If the situation hadn't exhausted me, I might have found it amusing.

"Will he keep away?" I found myself asking.

It was Mr. Irdale who answered me. "Miss Sutherland, we will make sure of it."

* * *

At the Carters' house, Mrs. Carter fussed over me for several minutes before sending me upstairs to change into a neat, unripped outfit. Evangeline followed to help me. I was nearly convinced she was afraid I would vanish if I left her sight.

"How is it that Mr. Irdale involved himself in this affair?" I asked as I unbuttoned the silk bodice of my walking gown. I wasn't sure whether the tear under my arm was repairable enough, but it was a problem for another day.

"He was here when I returned home for help," Evangeline said, helping me out of the bodice. She scowled at the torn fabric. "I didn't think a constable would listen to me, so I hurried to get my father. He and Mr. Irdale were discussing something—I'm not sure what—but they came immediately when I told them what had happened."

"Well, I am glad he was at hand," I said, unbuttoning my skirt. The fabric fell to the floor and I stepped out of it. "No offense to your father, but I don't think he would have been as intimidating as Mr. Irdale."

"No, that's very true," Evangeline agreed. She scooped up my skirt. "Let's get you into something nice."

She hurried over to the wardrobe which contained what little I had brought with me and frowned at the meager offering. "We should have thought to pack more of your clothing for you," she said, selecting the somber suit I wore when typing. "I suppose this will have to do."

It was much easier getting dressed with Evangeline's assistance. At home, I'd learned to lace my corset and dress without the help of a maid. Once I was dressed, I felt more myself. I then sat in front of the little dressing table and Evangeline set to work in righting the mess that was my hair.

"What would I have done without you?" I asked with a sigh.

"Oh, I am certain you would have found some way of standing up for yourself," Evangeline said, pulling pins out of my hair. "Tomorrow, we shall have to replace your poor hat. I don't think it can be saved."

"A new hat is the least of my worries. I am behind on my typing."

"But you have your inheritance, do you not?"

"No, this quarter has already been paid to James Windibank. I hardly think he will be of a mind to return it."

"Well, you shall simply stay here until you have what is yours!"

Sighing, I shook my head. "To save up enough money for a respectable boarding house, I will need to work, Evangeline. I'm sure we can manage to salvage the hat to last me for a bit longer."

"Of course."

Finally, I was dressed and ready to discuss the matter of what I was to do next with the gentlemen. Evangeline followed me down the stairs, clearly determined not to let me out of her sight. Though what could possibly happen to me in her parents' home, I couldn't begin to guess.

The gentlemen all stood up when I entered. Alfred was no longer there. Both Mr. Carter and Mr. Irdale had glasses of some kind of amber liquid in their hands.

"You're looking much better, Miss Sutherland," Mr. Irdale said with an approving nod.

I couldn't help the stiffening of my neck. I may have been not quite myself but he didn't have to make mention of it! "How are you feeling, Miss Sutherland?" Mr. Carter asked, concern tingeing his voice. "You have endured something any lady would find intolerable."

"Intolerable, but endurable, especially now that I am safe," I said, seating myself in an armchair. "But I am concerned it will happen again."

"We will not allow it to happen!"

Mr. Irdale cleared his throat. "With all due respect, sir, you didn't intend it to happen this time, but it did," he said logically. "Miss Sutherland, it may ease your mind to know that evidence has come to light which shows your stepfather may have been committing fraud."

"And?" Evangeline asked, her tone sharp. "How is that supposed to be comforting?"

"It means, Miss Carter, that Mr. Windibank is about to find himself facing multiple legal actions. While he may find some spare time to harass Miss Sutherland, it is unlikely that he will be free long enough to do so."

"Criminal actions," I murmured, remembering how in Dr. Watson's telling of the story, Mr. Holmes had said as much would occur.

"But what about Mary's safety in the meantime?" Evangeline persisted stubbornly. "Is there nothing we can do seeing as Mr. Windibank kidnapped and attempted to kill her?"

"Justice will be done, and I'm sure Miss Sutherland is not eager to have to testify in court."

"I think you underestimate just how I wish to see James Windibank pay for what he has done," I said under my breath. Of course, I had no idea what testifying would involve, and explaining my story in front of strangers would be embarrassing.

Mr. Irdale sent me a glance, the corners of his lips quirking. He did not acknowledge what I had said, however. "Everything that can be done, from a legal standpoint, is being done. I think he has been made aware that if any harm befalls you, Miss Sutherland, all suspicion will fall on him."

Yes, James Windibank was clever enough to realize that, but he may also think himself clever enough to get away with something. Still... "Thank you, Mr. Irdale," I said. "Though I cannot think how you came to be involved in this matter, I appreciate your assistance."

He offered a half bow, smiling in amusement. "My pleasure, Miss Sutherland."

"Irdale has agreed to stay for supper," Mr. Carter said with a smile. "Alfred, however, had already promised his company to his grandparents, Evangeline."

My friend heaved a sigh. "So it shall not be a complete victory meal, then. But I'm sure we will make do."

"Miss Sutherland, perhaps you would be good enough to tell me about your work," Mr. Irdale said. "Miss Carter has told me you are an exceptional typist."

Though I was not surprised my friend would have boasted of my skill, for she was fascinated by it, I was startled this reserved, stern gentleman was interested. "There's really not much for me to tell," I said warily.

"I'm sure that's not the case."

For a moment, I watched him. He seemed sincere. I hadn't liked him after our rather awkward introduction earlier, but he had come to my rescue today. That meant he was capable of changing his mind, since he no longer seemed to think I was mad.

"Well, since you asked." I straightened my shoulders and began. "I decided to take a typing course several years ago. This was before I knew a thing about my uncle."

Instead of showing boredom, Mr. Irdale leaned forward. Perhaps he wasn't as odious as I had thought.


	13. Epilogue

It was two years later when I saw it: T_he Final Problem_ published in _**The Strand**_. In it, Dr. Watson detailed the last case Mr. Sherlock Holmes had taken on and had died in solving. It all had occurred in 1891, perhaps when Evangeline and I had sought the detective's help? Was that why he hadn't been there when we'd called?

"I don't know why you're so upset," Jasper said as he leaned down to kiss my cheek. "Didn't he abandon you to your stepfather?"

"That doesn't make him any less a great detective," I said defensively. I brushed a tear from my cheek. "And it's disheartening to think the criminals of London will not have such a man to fear anymore."

It had been Evangeline, naturally, who had encouraged me to read the stories after my own adventure ended. Her reasoning that it would help me understand the man, and didn't I enjoy reading anyway? Why not enjoy the cases that delighted the rest of society?

And I had enjoyed them. I think I became a little more observant afterward, though no doubt it was a sorry attempt. Still, it had been enjoyable to discuss the stories with the other lodgers at the boarding house I moved into.

As it happened, I wasn't at the boarding house long. A certain gentleman had called on me and requested the honor of my company for dinner.

"I've seen men in the street with black bands on their arms all day," Jasper Irdale grumbled as he sat on the settee next to me. "They can't all have known the man."

"Well, if you think about it, we do have Mr. Holmes to thank for bringing us together," I said, smiling at my husband. I set the magazine aside. "If I hadn't gone to him, I wouldn't have ended up going to my solicitor. Dr. Watson wouldn't have written the story and I wouldn't have been upset or attacked when you were near."

"That seems a generous view of the matter," Jasper said, lacing his fingers with mine. He squeezed affectionately. "Any number of things could have prevented or encouraged our meeting."

Sighing, I shook my head. "In any event, it is still sad that he is gone now."

I expected Jasper to protest that I hardly knew the man, only meeting him the one time. "I suppose I should keep you away from all newspapers then if you're going to get sad about unfortunate things occurring," he said with a sigh.

"As if you'd even try!"

"No," he agreed with a chuckle. "You would only tell Evangeline, who would then join you in berating me for being a misogynist prig."

With a giggle, I leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Then we shall all be glad it did not come to that and be done with the matter." To encourage him to change the subject, I shifted to kiss him properly.

"My dear, we are expected at Alfred and Evangeline's for dinner in an hour," Jasper said, drawing his watch out to check the time. "You cannot tell me you're ready to leave now."

"And if I am? What will you say then?" I asked coyly.

"Mary, don't tempt me," he warned me as his arm tightened around my waist.

Smiling, I rested my head against his shoulder. Though I knew I ought to get ready for the dinner, I was content to remain where I was. Finally, I had a happy home and family to rely on.

Since I left my mother's home, I had only seen my mother a few times. She would be polite, utter words of disappointment at my marriage, and then try to tell me all about how poor James was suffering. This too would be blamed on me.

And, I suppose on the surface, it was my fault. Mr. Irdale's threat of having James' business ventures investigated had not been an idle one. It didn't come to any surprise that there were some aspects not quite legal. I never bothered to learn the details, but James was sued for fraud.

He was sentenced to several years in prison. I wasn't sure whether it would only make him worse. My mother, of course, took the news badly, especially when she learned there was hardly anything left from the sale of my father's business and she had nothing. I used my inheritance to provide for her, though I never had a word of thanks for my trouble.

"You do realize the longer you sit here, the later we will be," Jasper said, getting my attention. "I understand you find my embrace warm when it is so cold outside, but we do have somewhere to be."

I wrinkled my nose at the thought of going out into the December wind and cold. "I suppose you're right," I said reluctantly.

When I moved to stand up, however, Jasper caught my waist and pulled me onto his lap. He claimed my lips and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

I never would have guessed that I would be so fortunate to have a loving, if a bit stern, husband and dear friends. It made everything that had happened to me absolutely worth it.


End file.
